


too much, too young, too fast

by antisocialhood



Series: Sunshine of Your Love [1]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Affection, Domestic, Fluff, I LOVE MALUM, M/M, Smut, florida fic, i don't know what to tag this as bc it's so ?! out of control, i went out of control, i'd like to apologize for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 21:31:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5642677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antisocialhood/pseuds/antisocialhood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Michael fell into his side a few hours later, nearly knocking the two of them into the bar completely. Calum erupted into a fit of giggles and Michael soon followed, gripping Calum’s waist like a lifeline.</em>
</p><p> <em>“I like you.” The words came out like a realization and Michael’s eyes blew wide at his words. He laughed, eyes squeezing shut and lips curling up. The next second he was pressing his lips to Calum’s, and wrapping his fingers around Calum’s arm tightly.</em></p><p> <em>It came again, much like before; a sudden gurgle of word vomit. Only this time, Calum nodded.</em></p><p> <em>“Let’s get married.” </em></p><p> ~~~</p><p>or, Michael and Calum are loose in Florida, still young, foolish and desperately in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	too much, too young, too fast

**Author's Note:**

> hello there,
> 
> i've been quite absent from life because this fic took over and swallowed me whole. it started off decent and trailed off into shit, but is much better than my original idea.
> 
> anyway, this is part of a remix fic thing (but i cannot add it bc i am late) and like i feel like it doesn't give any justice to the beauty that is malum loose in florida.
> 
> i hope you enjoy nevertheless.
> 
> title is from too much, too young, too fast by airbourne 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ****
> 
> [8tracks](http://8tracks.com/trishabeann/malum-too-much-too-young-too-fast?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button).
> 
> ****

  _When Calum was five - teetering on the age of six - there was a fire drill at his elementary school. The teacher, Ms. Mackenzie, quickly lined them up and ushered them through the classroom door towards the closest exit. They’d practiced fire drills once or twice before and had the procedure down pat - give the part about staying quiet. He held hands with a blonde girl named Danielle and tried to keep up with her quick feet._

  _It was a hot day, the sun beating down on the blacktop as Calum crossed it with Danielle and tried not to step on the boy in front of his feet. His name was Michael and he was adamant on keeping his already beat up converse at the same state they currently were; messy and caked in mud but without Calum’s dusty footprints on them. Danielle and Sarah, another girl from class and Michael’s buddy system partner, broke off from the two boys as soon as they’d reached the grassy area where a majority of the elementary school currently sat, brooding over being out in the heat and dewy grass._

  _“Your eyes are pretty,” Calum said as he sat down in the grass. He plucked a blade of the green and slowly pulled it apart, squinting up at Michael against the bright sun._

  _The sandy haired boy had frowned and sat down alongside Calum with a huff. He sighed, ripping a clump of grass from the ground and throwing it at a girl Calum didn’t know. She squeaked in annoyance and darted away from the two boys, sticking her tongue out._

  _Michael didn’t speak and Calum didn’t push. He knew some people didn’t take compliments well, like his sister; Mali hated compliments unless they were from him or their parents. She would blush fiercely and brush her bangs over her face to hide. Calum liked when she did that, especially when he’d laugh and she’d tackle him with a fit of tickles._

  _“I think we’re painting today in art.” Calum tried again, this time keeping the attention off of Michael. The sandy haired boy looked up at him and nodded, rubbing his thumb on his knee. The material of his jeans was faded - looked purposeful too but Calum wasn’t really sure - and the bottoms were frayed, little blue-white strings hanging against the black converse on his feet. Ms. Mackenzie called roll a few feet away and Calum grinned when Michael’s hand shot up at his name._

  _He smiled again a few minutes later when the principal announced they could go back in. Michael had walked next to Calum, even taking his hand when Ms. Mackenzie called them to order. He sat back in his seat for math and worked his hardest on his addition and subtraction until class ended and they cleaned up their math workbooks and sheets._

_Art was a fun class and Calum always ended up with paint on his smock, whether from himself or a classmate's carelessness. He was five though, so it was understandable and his mum would laugh when he brought home a paint splattered shirt to be washed._

_Michael was good at art, especially painting. He stayed in the lines and the colors always looked good together. Calum was envious but brushed it off knowing he had his own strong suits, like sports._

_“I like your apple.” Michael stirred his pot of green paint around before dipping the brush in. He’d picked up a paper with a park drawn on it and was working on the grass and tree tops._  

_Calum smiled, looking over to the boy. “Thank you. I like your trees.” That earned him a smile and soft ‘thanks’._

_From then on Calum found himself going up to the art supply table whenever Michael was scrounging around for a brush or color. They didn’t talk much at first, not until Calum spilled pink paint on Michael’s left shoe and went home with a bruised cheek. Michael wasn’t in school for three days after that and Calum had worried despite the nasty shades his cheek held and the loose teeth that he claimed had been wiggling before._

" _I’m sorry I punched you,” Michael said Friday morning. He wore a new pair of converse and sheepish smile._

_Calum nodded and turned back to his desk, fiddling with his sharpened pencil. “It’s alright.” And it was, in a way. His mum had told him that Michael shouldn’t have hit him and to stay away from the sandy haired boy. She never said to not accept his apology, and that was ultimately Calum’s demise._

 ~~~

 Florida was wet and humid and Calum was miserable. His hair curled despite his careful styling and his skin felt damp whenever he ventured outside of the air conditioned house. He didn’t go out much, usually sticking to burying himself in Michael’s bed in his underwear and tangling his legs up with the older boy’s.

 “You smell good,” Michael threw his paper plate from lunch in the trash and washed his hands at the sink. He’d eaten three of the six ramens they had left, and Calum knew Ashton would eat two for dinner if he didn’t order out. That meant they’d have to go outside soon, like, in public where everyone would be able to see Calum’s unruly curls and miserable attitude.

 Calum threw his own plate out and pushed their chairs in. They didn’t eat in the kitchen often, usually having measly band meals around the coffee table in the living room or branching off into their own rooms - Calum into Michaels - and hiding away for the rest of the night. “I smell like you.”

 He’d been living out of his suitcase - which was partially filled with Michael’s clothes - for the past month and the soft scent of Michael’s deodorant clung to every fiber in the fabrics. Not to mention the fact that he slept next to Michael and occasionally used his shampoo.

 “Which is why I said you smelled good.” Michael grinned teasingly and leaned against the counter. His smile was the same as it’d been when he was five; small and toothy and reaching his eyes. Calum couldn’t help but return the smile as he stepped into Michael’s personal bubble, wrapping his arms around the older boys waist and resting his head on Michael’s shoulder.

 Michael’s skin was soft, bare and smooth. He’d decided five minutes into entering the house that clothes were no longer mandatory - although Ashton had dictated that boxers or shorts had to be on at all times - and had been shirtless nine out of ten times he’d crawled out of his room for a bottle of water and bag of chips.

 He rubbed Calum’s back softly, other hand pausing on the boys hip and fingers tucking into the waistline of his boxers. With Michael, sex was always an option which Calum had found out two and half years ago when he’d ended up pinned against the wall and Michael’s lips wrapped around his cock. That’d been a turning point in their friendship, the soft nudge towards something more that Calum was still afraid to address.

 “Not in the kitchen,” Calum tried, voice weak. He melted into Michael’s touch easily and had a hard time controlling himself once Michael started teasing.

 The older boy hummed softly and kissed Calum’s head. “No, not now. We need to go shopping.” Calum groaned at Michael’s sudden responsibility, and silently cursed Ashton for not having gone the day before when noticing their supplies were dwindling quickly. As the unofficial father of the band, it was _definitely_ Ashton’s job to oversee that they didn’t starve to death or drink their meals out of shot glasses.

 “We don’t,” Calum wrapped his arms around Michael’s waist and rubbed his thumbs on the older boys sides. “Ashton’ll go tomorrow.” He knew that was a lie, or at least half of one. If Ashton hadn’t already gone grocery shopping, then there was a high probability he would skip completely this time and leave it all up to Michael and Calum, who, for the record, could definitely not be trusted in a food store alone.

 Michael tutted and pushed his hand further into Calum’s boxers, fingers sliding over his ass cheeks slowly to cup the supple flesh and squeeze. Calum hummed contentedly and kissed Michael’s throat. He loved when Michael played like this, using his hold over Calum to his advantage. “Go get dressed,” Michael murmured, pulling his hand back from Calum’s bottoms. “We need to shop.”

 ~~~

Calum hated going outside, even more so when he knew the likelihood of his squeaky clean converse staying shiny and new was slim. They were the second pair he’d bought in the past month, the first being ruined in Raleigh, North Carolina when Ashton trekked them through a shady looking puddle of goop that he claimed to be solidified mud. It wasn’t and Calum ended the night with his favorite pair of sneakers caked in grey-brown mud, and a personal vendetta against Ashton that resulted in a two day long glaring match between the two boys when Calum’s sneakers landed on Ashton’s bed when he was still tucked in it.

 Needless to say, Ashton hadn’t been too eager to cross any suspicious looking areas, even more so when reaching Florida; the wet sunshine state. There were bogs and marshes everywhere when Luke and Calum went exploring the first day, and the smell was overpowering. Moss covered rocks and trees, and rippled on the top of water - although Calum wasn’t sure if it was a natural ripple or if something was underneath it, like a fish or alligator.

 “Those are mine,” Michael said, pulling a shirt over his head. He was referring to the insanely tight jeans Calum was attempting to pull up his legs. It wouldn’t have usually been much of an issue, but he wasn’t sure they were actually Michaels. The legs were tight as hell and the knees were worn like ninety-five percent of Luke’s were, and there was a tiny splotch of brown on the thigh, sort of near the knee, and Calum definitely remembered when Luke ran into Ashton’s door and ended up with a bloody nose. It was _definitely_ a possibility the pants were Luke's, despite Michael’s insistence of them being his.

 Calum finally was able to squeeze into the jeans and stepped in front of the bureau to look at himself in the mirror. He hummed appreciatively and turned to Michael. “My ass looks amazing,” He buttoned the jeans and pulled the zipper up. Michael threw a shirt at him, black and printed on with faded grey lettering. Signing a contract to form a legitimate band came with an unanimous clause stating they had to wear ninety-nine percent black - Calum was positive Luke inserted that bit into the contract.

 Michael tied his sneakers as Calum pulled the shirt on. As usual, it smelled like Michael and fit like one of his shirts; long but snug in the shoulders. He slid his feet into his already laced sneakers, frowning at the thought of these also ending up in the garbage - _or Ashton’s bed_ \- because of the miserable weather or misjudgement on footing. He definitely needed to invest in a pair of rainboots, or those ugly chestnut work boots he’d seen Luke’s brother, Jack, wearing when he’d come home from work and find the band sprawled out on the couch with bags of chips and blankets. Michael backed Calum into the bureau and kissed his neck as he tucked his wallet into his back pocket and left Calum whining for more.

 “You can’t just tease me,” Calum huffed, following Michael into the hall. His whines were met with a cocky grin and waggled eyebrows. Calum groaned and stopped after his bandmate. Ashton and Luke were at the kitchen table, each with a personal pizza in front of them and a notebook filled with scribbled words in Ashton’s messy scrawl.

 Luke looked up as he bit into a slice of pizza and flipped the book over, smiling sheepishly. “Where are you two going?” Ashton turned to face them, soda in hand as he leaned on the back of his chair. Michael rifled through the junk drawer as Calum sat down at the head of the table and reached for the notebook.

 “Grocery shopping,” Calum grimaced as he spoke. It was cloudy out and they’d probably end up caught in a rainstorm _again._   Michael slammed the drawer shut and moved to the table, pulling the notebook from Calum’s grip and whacked Luke’s hands away as he tore a lined sheet of yellow paper out.

 Michael scribbled on the paper, slanted and small. His handwriting was terrible, messy like himself but Calum liked it; had since first grade when Michael had written his own invitation for Calum to come to his birthday party. “We need ramen,” Michael mused, jotting the item down and tapping the pen on his bottom lip. “Do we want tastykakes again?” He didn’t look to thrilled at the idea, which was understandable. Ashton liked jelly, a lot, and hadn’t thought to tell anyone else he’d bought jelly filled krimpets and hid them on top of the fridge.Michael, being the child his was, found the box and helped himself, and cried for half an hour about eating a soggy cake filled with disgusting jelly that he couldn’t even decide the flavor of; it was raspberry, Calum was sure.

 “No,” Calum and Luke replied loudly, attempting to block out the ‘yes’ Ashton gave. Michael nodded and proceeded to write the item down. As much as he disliked the food, he wouldn’t deprive Ashton of them; just make sure to not eat them or look at them, or do much more than throw them on top of the fridge and forget about them.

 The list ended up double sided and full of crossed out items. Luke wanted cereal but couldn’t make up his mind for a good twenty minutes until Calum decided Lucky Charms would suffice and ignored Luke’s whines about wanting Frosted Flakes. Ashton and Luke argued over pop tart flavors and Michael said he’d buy a variety pack.

 Not twenty minutes later Calum was in the passenger seat of their rented car and playing with the dial to change the radio station before plugging his phone in and settling on a Royal Blood song with killer drumming and smooth bass. He was slowly beginning to obsess over the no-name band and had tried talking John into getting them rights to cover the new song only to be shut down by his bandmates.

 “We’re going to Walmart.” Michael flicked his turn signal and pulled off of their street, merging slowly into the traffic and slumping back against the seat. He was clearly still uncomfortable behind the wheel and usually let Calum drive who was equally new to the whole driving scene.

 Florida was a mess of freeways and green signs, and not many small streets and quaint towns. West Palm beach had an assortment of shopping centres but they were full of high end stores and boutiques that Calum was sure he wouldn’t be able to find a leg squeezing pair of jeans in without spending over eighty dollars. It was a shopping district and Calum hated how they lived so close. The fans that caught them going out two nights before had been friendly but the older generations had turned their noses up at Michael and Calum’s sneakers and ripped jeans. That was the style anyway, ripped was in and sneakers were a must; old people just didn’t appreciate the new ways.

 “I think we were supposed to turn back there.” Calum watched the exit zoom by and turned to Michael. The older boy’s lips were turned down in annoyance.

 “I always fucking miss exits.” He flicked flicked his turn signal and moved into the right lane. With Michael, life was an adventure. Whether driving around in search of Walmart or watching him stumble into a Mastercard commercial as he wandered around the airport aimlessly after being left behind as the rest of the band flew off to London. “If we get off at the next exit I’m sure we’ll be able to find it.”

 Calum looked over at him, unsure. They had an almost full tank of gas, and it wouldn’t be the first time they ended up lost in a car; this time without Ashton, though. “I could always GPS it,” He said, opening the app on his phone and searching. His phone located the Walmart a few seconds later and Michael grumbled beneath his breath. “The sooner we finish shopping...” Calum trailed off and grinned when Michael looked over at him. “We can go back to the house.”

 Occasionally, Calum could master the art of teasing although he was nowhere near Michael’s level. Michael stayed quiet but Calum noted his grip tightening on the steering wheel as they drove, the deep voice of the GPS directing them.

 Walmart’s large sign loomed into view a few miles up and Michael took the closest exit, following the twisting ramp around until he reached the route and found the entrance to Walmart’s parking lot. Calum unplugged his phone and turned the GPS off as Michael parked - one of the better park jobs he’d done so far.

 Calum snagged a cart when they walked past a grouping. “Are you going to lock the car?” He asked, knowing Michael forgot that _he_  was in charge of the car when driving it. Michael grinned sheepishly and hit the lock button before tucking the keys into the pocket of his jeans and followed after Calum.

 They wandered through the store, pulling items from the shelves and throwing them in the cart. Bulk shopping was one of Luke’s traits that he’d tried repeatedly to impress upon Michael and Calum for when they shopped for the band. Michael dumped two boxes of ramen into the cart and rifled through the shelves for a box of macaroni and cheese, throwing those in after locating the original flavor.

 “I think we need paper towels,” Calum said as they continued down the aisle. Michael hummed in response, nodding. He was crossing out the items they’d picked up, the list still long and unfulfilled. “And maybe some yogurt.”

 Michael nodded again, eyes raking the front of the store before landing on a carton of cherry pastries. He smiled weakly and placed a container in the baby seat of the cart, and kissed Calum’s shoulder. They didn’t often show off their comfortability with each others bodies or excessive displays of affection, especially in the middle of a store where anyone could see them. Calum didn’t push Michael away though, instead continuing to push the cart down the next aisle and knocked two boxes of cereal into the cart; one to please Luke and one to please himself.

 “Eggs,” Michael said, crossing cereal from his list. The first page was nearly marked off fully, give or take a few items. They walked past the fresh fruits and vegetables where Calum grabbed a bag of grapes and two cartons of strawberries and blackberries; Michael’s favorite. The cart was filling quickly as they piled more and more in, slowly but surely completing the long list they’d set forward to cross out entirely. The eggs ended up in the baby seat with the pastries and an assortment of paper products were stuffed on the underside of the cart.

 They walked towards the register, Michael stopping to look through the movies being sold for five dollars or less, when Calum paused, eyes catching the high black plastic material of rainboots on a shelf near mens clothes. He went over, leaving the cart beside Michael and picked up a pair. They were heavy, made of thick rubber and probably mid-calf, and a dark black color that Calum knew Luke would grumble but appreciate as it stuck to the  _'black clause'._

 “You’re joking,” Michael laughed as he pushed the cart over. He picked up a pair and studied them before putting the boots back where he’d picked them up from. Calum put his own in the cart after checking the size and verifying they’d fit him, grumbling when Michael teasingly rolled his eyes.

 Calum let Michael push the cart behind him as they got in line behind an elderly couple who had only a few items. The cashier, Monica, as her name badge read, looked less than enthralled when she saw the full cart as Calum and Michael emptied it onto the belt. The older couple finished up and Monica greeted them as she began to scan their items.

 “Does this mean you’ll go outside more now?” Michael asked as Monica scanned the rainboots. He smiled at her when she looked up and reached for the frozen pizzas. They piled more of their cart onto the belt and Calum went down to help bag.

 “Doubtfully,” Calum responded filling up the first paper bag and pushing it to the side. “It’s disgusting here.” That earned him a laugh from Monica, a small agreement and the pleasure to know that if she didn’t smile one more time today, at least she’d laughed.

 Monica finished ringing them up and bagged the rest of the items as Michael swiped his card, moving to take filled back and pack them into the cart. There were a few girls near the entrance, phones out snapping pictures. Michael grumbled and finished helping Calum load everything back in.

 “Have a nice day,” Monica said as she handed Michael the receipt and moved onto the next customer. They both thanked her and Calum took control of the cart, giving Michael time to fish the keys from his pocket.

 “Fans,” Michael said, touching Calum’s hip softly. He stepped closer to the younger boy almost instinctively, keys in hand. Calum smiled at them as they went past, glad they didn’t ask for any personal pictures. He felt like shit and was sure his hair had curled into a monster-like mess that Ashton usually sported.

 They made their way to the car and loaded it quickly before pushing the cart into the grouping it had been in earlier. Michael handed Calum the keys, obviously having more trust in his bandmate to get them back to the house in one piece and in a reasonable amount of time.

~~~

 Luke grumbled angrily when Calum pulled him from his bed and rushed him to the car to help bring in the groceries. Ashton was in the shower, and Luke had tried, and failed, to run into the bathroom to escape grocery duty only to have Calum yank him back into the hall and force him down the stairs.

 “I bought you cherry pop tarts,” Calum coaxed as Luke dropped the paper towels on the floor and slumped against the fridge, claiming exhaustion.

  _“We,”_  Michael corrected. He yawned and punched Luke’s arm. “Fucking go, blondie. I have things to do rather than bring your shit in.” Calum laughed at Luke’s pout and followed Michael back out to the car. The cloudy sky was darkening and Calum knew that in a few hours, at most, there would be heavy downpours and the need for rain boots.

 Luke closed the trunk as he fished out the last bag and hurried into the house ahead of Calum. The first drops of rain hit his cheeks, cold and fat. He checked to make sure the windows on the car were closed tightly and the doors locked before rushing in after his bandmate. Michael came in a few minutes later, mail in hand. He threw it on the table and looked at Luke, who was already restocking the fridge with all of the cold items they’d bought.

 “Think you can handle this, Lu?” Michael questioned, turning to face Calum. The blonde replied with a soft ‘yes’ and closed the vegetable bin. Calum handed him another bag only for Michael to pull it from his hand and place it on the floor. “Upstairs.”

 Calum shook his head. “We have stuff to do.” He pulled his rainboots from a bag and brought them over to the counter to snip the tags off. Michael followed behind closely, stopping behind Calum and leaning against his back.

 “I have you to do,” Michael ran his hands up Calum’s sides and kissed his neck. “Please, babe?” He didn’t often use affectionate nicknames, neither of them did - albeit to win an argument or get something they wanted. Calum sighed and looked at Luke whose cheeks were red and lips spread in a silly smile as he pushed cartons of yogurt to the back of the bottom shelf.

 Luke crumpled up the empty bag and turned to look at Calum, almost silently asking why he was still lingering in the kitchen when Michael’s behind him waiting to go up to their room. It wouldn’t be the first time Calum’s turned Michael down for sex, although it wasn’t something that happened often and usually never perked a nice response from Michael, who grumped around the rest of the day, or at least until he was able to pounce on Calum behind closed doors.

 “He’ll just be a bitch...” Luke smiled, cheeks still flaming. He was such a prude when it came to Michael and Calum’s unnamed coupling, constantly blushing at the mention of a night prior or how hard one or the other was. Calum assumed Luke would grow out of it the more it happened, but had yet to see the tension ease from his body once Michael or his dick was mentioned. Despite Luke’s vigorous sex life (which he attempted, and failed miserably at to keep private), he still went into panic mode when Calum would finally crawl out of Michael’s bed and escape to the bathroom - body littered in marks and lovebites from the older boy.

 Calum let a giddy Michael pull him to their room -  _Michael’s room_  - and shut the door before pulling his shirt over his head. It was probably the longest period of time that Michael had been in the house fully clothed and Calum would be sure to acknowledge the fact over breakfast tomorrow morning. Ashton would be pleased to say the least.

 “Please,” Michael hummed as he pushed Calum onto the bed and moved to straddle his lap. “Don’t look so enthused.” The older boy cupped Calum’s face, tilting his head up and nuzzling at his nose with his own. Calum couldn’t help but smile, nostrils flaring as Michael attempted an eskimo kiss and squeezed his thighs tight against the younger man's.

 Ashton bumbled down the hallway past their door, loud and giggly. He was calling for Luke as Michael pushed Calum onto his back and popped the button of his jeans.

 “Don’t just swallow my dick.” Calum laughed as Michael squirmed from his lap to his knees and attempted to pull Calum’s pants down. He regretted putting them on. It was a known fact - very fucking known throughout the band at least - that Luke’s jeans, which these definitely were, were not sex jeans.They were skin scratching, blood rushing, unholy pieces of denim that squeezed you three sizes smaller than you actually were, and Calum knew, Michael loved every minute of trying to wiggle them down Calum’s legs.

 It also, wasn’t the first time Michael had wormed Calum from excessively tight jeans, stroked his dick a time or two, and swallowed him down with ease. That’d been a roller coaster ride in itself that Calum had stored in his wank bank for when Michael was either holed up in his man cave at home, or trapped in another hotel room and too lazy to open the door.

 “Shut up,” Michael hummed, eyebrows knitting as he threw a glare at the younger boy. He fumbled around with pulling the jeans down Calum’s legs. These were worse than usual and Michael seemed to realize this as he looked up at Calum, shoulders slumping. “Did you glue these on? It’s like you’re wearing Luke’s jeans.”

 Calum huffed, leaning up on his elbows. “I am.” He stood up, pushing Michael back and wiggled the jeans down his legs. “Jesus, Mike.” He laughed, chewing the inside of his cheek as the pants scratched his skin. Michael never usually gave up on getting Calum naked, give those drunk attempts that resulted in half naked cuddles wherever they landed. Drunk sex wasn’t something that happened often - Michael was far too cuddly and sleepy to bother finishing Calum off or do much more than pull his pants down to his knees.

 Michael glared distastefully at the jeans Calum discarded on the floor and rocked back onto his knees, hands going to Calum’s thighs and squeezing. “Are you going to stand the whole time?” He asked teasingly when Calum made no move to sit. It was a known fact that Calum had absolutely no control of his legs when Michael touched his dick - the band knew, a few stage hands and Feldy (who’d walked in at just the right moment to see Calum collapsing onto the couch.

 He’d been teased for weeks about it - longer than the leaked snapchat video - and Michael made sure to poke at Calum as often as he could.

 Calum shushed the older boy and sat on the edge of the bed as Michael pushed his thighs apart and crawled in between them the best he could. Calum always wondered how Luke could fit in between someone’s thighs with his broad shoulders, especially when Michael wasn’t quite as large and still had a tight squeeze. He brushed his hand through Michael's hair softly, admiring the shiny white-blonde strands carding between his brown fingers.

 “Don't look so love sick.” Michael smiled softly and took Calum’s dick in hand. He stroked him slowly, eyes locking on the flushed skin as his fingers twisted around him. Michaels fingers were magic; short for a guitarist but still decent enough when he worked them inside of Calum and hit all of those nice places. He knew what he was doing too, knew how to brush every nerve and send tingles through his body.

 With Michael, sex was full of smart remarks and breathy confessions that Calum pretended not to hear. When they went slow and Calum topped, Michael would always reminisce back to their childhood which made Calum uncomfortable at first - he didn’t want to picture himself with glue sticky fingers and missing teeth when he was balls deep in Michael. Blow jobs were almost as bad, except Calum struggled with keeping Michael on task rather than talking about a conversation he’d had with his mum - which was definitely a mood killer ninety-nine percent of the time.

“Just suck my dick,” Calum murmured, tightening his grip in Michael's hair and tugging him forward. Michael shot him a look and huffed, leaning in and kissing the underside of his cock. He teased, far too much for Calum’s liking, before finally giving the younger boy what he wanted. Which definitely wasn’t fair after Michael tortured and then forced him outside into the miserable Florida weather.

 Michael hummed, tongue flicking out and sliding up his dick slowly until he hit the younger boys tip. “You’re pulsing.” Michael wrapped his lips around Calum’s head and sucked hard, pulling a strangled gasp from him.

 “You’re teasing.” Came Calum’s short response, barely making it through his clenched teeth before a groan spilled. Michael's mouth was sinful, absolutely torturous and hot. He was sweet and sour at the same time and he knew how to work Calum up. Michael grinned, or at least, attempted to. He licked Calum’s cock, pressing his tongue flush to his dick and working up the veiny underside.

 Calum’s breath grew ragged as his stomach tightened. He fisted his hand tighter through Michael’s hair and tugged, pulling the older boy up and licking into his gawking mouth. Michael went pliant under his touch, allowing Calum to control the kiss and the way they wrestled around the mattress.

 “No, no.” Michael breathed hard, squirming to pin Calum down. He achieved his mission fairly quickly and folded the boys legs up to his chest, thrusting forward to bump his cock against Calum’s hole. The younger boy groaned, struggling to move forward and meet Michael’s teasing movements.

 Michael forced his hips down and fumbled around with the bottle of lube they’d left out from the night before. Calum had broken the cap a week ago and Michael had been slippery and slimy when it leaked out onto him and the bedspread when he left it on the mattress. He quickly lubricated two of his fingers and pushed them into Calum’s hole, earning himself a thick groan from the boy and a sharp tug of his hair.

 “Fuck, Mike!” Calum wheezed the words out, eyes squeezing shut as Michael delved deeper, nudging the thick twist of nerves buried deep in his body. Michael knew his body better than he did. Every nook and cranny was something Michael had taken the time to explore and acclimate himself with. He was soft and gentle, working Calum open despite his fast push in.

 “Okay?” Michael gritted his teeth and pushed another finger in, burying his thick digits deep in Calum’s warm body. His body opened for Michael greedily, wanting nothing more than to suck him in and swim in the pleasure he handed over. Michael grunted, pulling his fingers out despite Calum’s consistent whines for more. “Stay still.” He commanded, blindly reaching around the nightstand for the condoms he’d thrown in the drawer. Finally finding one, he ripped the pack open and rolled it down his cock, throwing the wrapping to the floor and tapping himself against Calum’s hole before pushing in.

Calum’s hole fluttered needily as Michael stretched him, entering his body with steady thrusts. His own cock hung heavy on his stomach, leaking precum and threatening to burst at any given moment. He needed more, a steady pressure on his prostate and Michael’s hand on his dick.

 “You’re so good,” Michael choked out the compliment as he rocked into the boy, rubbing his walls and pressing tight to every nerve he could. Calum sighed and relished in Michael’s confident touch as he fucked into him, nudging him into oblivious slowly.

 He tangled his hand through Calum’s hair and pulled hard, earning a squeak from the younger boy before he came, decorating his stomach in white and clenching tightly around Michael’s cock. Michael moaned, rocking his hips forward and leaning down to kiss Calum hard as he came.

 “You’re so heavy,” Calum whined as Michael pulled out and dropped his weight on Calum’s still folded legs and body. He squirmed miserably, ignoring the fact that his weaselly ways were brushed off. This happened far too often, Calum ending up pinned beneath Michael after they went a round or two and Michael couldn’t be arsed letting Calum roll onto his stomach and catch his breath.

 “You love it.” Michael retorted, always up for jabbing at Calum’s clear enjoyment of Michael’s affection, despite the sometimes annoying ways he displayed it.

 ~~~

 Luke’s definitely drunk, he’s flirting and Calum’s his prime target which is understandable. He was the only one that hadn’t disappeared to the bar or dance floor and everyone knows Luke’s an affectionate little fuck that can’t handle his liquor and unrealistic need for attention. Calum knows he could easily pass the grabby blonde off to a random girl and escape to the bar for his own round of shots - which apparently his needs were overlooked in the twenty minutes they’d been in the bar.

 He wasn’t even sure how Luke was already _that_ twisted.

 “Sit down,” For the third time in ten minutes, Calum was shoving Luke down into a booth. He kept mumbling about tequila - which definitely _wasn't_ happening - and attempting to escape despite being a six foot four klutz with a high pitched giggle that came out when he was on the brink. He caught Ashton at the bar with Michael, both leaning casually against the probable sticky surface and chatting with the bartender. They were both nursing bottles of beer which was weird since Michael’s a rum type of guy and Ashton never started with beer.

 Luke squirmed against, pushing at Calum weakly and whining. He was a lost cause and Calum really needed a drink. There was only a fifty percent chance he’d end up in a girl's bed for the night and that Ashton would end up driving around Florida the next morning trying to find Luke and drag him back to the house.

 He let Luke push by with a giggle and watched him head to the bar before following after. There was definitely a bottle of Beefeater behind the bar calling for him.

“Cal,” Ashton draped his arm around the bassist’s waist and pulled him close. The bartender, who Calum learned hated the band, took his order with a smile and slid a rock glass over a few minutes later. Luke threw back two shots - probably of tequila - and wrinkled his nose at the bite.

 Calum wanted to make a smart remark but held his tongue and ordered a round of shots for the band. He pushed his glass away and took a shot, throwing it back after clinking glasses with the boys. Michael fell into his side after his third and nuzzled into his neck, breathing heavily. Luke had disappeared into the crowd and Calum saw him emerge from the floor with a smile on his face and Ashton behind him. Calum hadn’t noticed the older boy leave.

 “Let’s get married,” Michael slurred, kissing up Calum’s neck messily. He smelled like bourbon and lemons, and Calum was suffocating. He shook his head and finished the gin and tonic, signalling the bartender over and ordering another.

 Luke sat on a stool, leaning back against Ashton who had his head on top of the blondes. They flowed effortlessly, melting into each other as Calum brushed off Michael’s touchy advances for another gin and tonic. He never drank to get drunk, more for the enjoyment and pleasurable numb it cast over his senses. Michael though, drank to let go, and Calum often sat on the sidelines and watched him drink his dinners - and somehow found himself under Michael’s half naked body before the sun breached the horizon.

 “I’ll marry Ashton,” Michael tutted slowly, smacking his lips together noisily and grinning at the older boy. His playful advance earned him a silly smile and a bashful wave. It was all in good humor but Calum felt a sudden ache in his stomach, an urge to almost snap at his friend for even playing around with Michael’s joking affection. He kept his lips pursed though, only breaking his steady game of staying silent as he sipped at the gin.

 “You’ll marry Cal,” Luke butted in, probably sensing the silent boys unease. He was like that, very in touch with how his band mates felt without indulging in a conversation and getting mushy. It seemed to grow even more as Luke chugged down more and more spirits. Michael nodded quickly and kissed Calum’s neck again.

 His breath was hot and Calum felt his skin raise with goosebumps as he held in an involuntary shiver.

 Another round of shots and Michael retrieving Luke from the bathroom _\- twice -_  , Calum found himself in the middle of the dance floor, awkwardly shuffling around like Luke does when he’s nervous. Michael had disappeared with Luke back to the bar which Calum’s sure they shouldn’t have been getting served any longer, but they had a tab running so maybe someone sensible (like the bartender) should have closed it before one of them ended up plastered on the tabloids for intoxication and hospitalization.

 “Hey!” Michael appeared in front of Calum, almost popping out of the crowd. He was sweaty and smiley, two of Calum’s favorite things, and quickly grabbed the younger boys hand. “We’re leaving.” He wasn’t slurring as badly as before, instead talking slowly and looking absolutely confused as he mulled over the possible words about to slip from his lips.

 Calum let himself be dragged from the club. He hadn’t had a drink in at least a half hour but found himself wishing for a tall glass of water as soon as he stepped into the humid and muggy Florida air. For traveling the world a few times over, Calum definitely knew Florida was his _least_ favorite place - which was ninety-eight percent the weather’s fault. Thankfully, he had his new rainboots at home if the weather decided it wasn’t planning on sticking to the forecast the news anchors had broadcasted and discussed for a good twenty minutes on the six o’clock news that Ashton had forced them to watch before returning to whatever cartoon Michael coaxed them into watching previously.

 It wasn’t even like he and Michael had watched the show. They’d been playing handsies under the blanket that was completely overkill on how hot the house already was. Nevertheless, handsies had happened and Calum had ended up in the shower with Michael’s fingers buried in his prostate and his face flush against the cool tile wall.

 Luke and Ashton were sitting on a brick wall outside the club, both playing on their phones and ignoring the occasional passersby that acknowledged them as members of a _decent_ band. Calum laughed when Michael turned back to throw a goofy smile his way and lead him over to Luke and Ashton.

 “Where are we going?” Luke rubbed his eyes yawning. His right leg was bouncing and he was probably starving (post drinking munchies as Ashton had deemed it after the third time they’d gone out for burgers after attempting to binge drink). He had a hopeful look in his eyes that clouded over the sleepiness. “Can we get food?”

 After a pathetic argument between the two blondes, Ashton led (read: stumbles in a disgustingly cute fashion) them to a Panera with the help of his phone and Siri’s thick Australian accent guiding them. They ended up in another bar, this one full of girls pressing themselves up against Calum as he struggled through to the bar and orders a round of shots for the boys. He didn’t start another tab because he wasn’t sure he’d remember to pay it.

 Michael fell into his side a few hours later, nearly knocking the two of them into the bar completely. Calum erupted into a fit of giggles and Michael soon followed, gripping Calum’s waist like a lifeline.

 “I like you.” The words came out like a realization and Michael’s eyes blew wide at his words. He laughed, eyes squeezing shut and lips curling up. The next second he was pressing his lips to Calum’s, and wrapping his fingers around Calum’s arm tightly.

 It came again, much like before; a sudden gurgle of word vomit. Only this time, Calum nodded.

 “Let’s get married.”

 ~~~

  _Calum’s ten and finally coaxed his mum into letting Michael sleepover. She's still bitter about their falling out and Calum's black eye - three years later._

  _Michael comes to school with a pillow tucked under his arm and an overnight bag that sounds like sixty video games tucked in every available inch of space. He's going to walk home with Calum for the first time._

  _“I brought video games.” Michael says, dropping his backpack and bag off in his cubby and brushing past Calum to grab his notebook and pencil case from across the area._

  _Calum nods and unpacks his bag. He's excited for Michael to sleep over but regrets not cleaning his room. It's an absolute mess - albeit Michael's is ten time worse no doubt - and he knows his mum is going to flip out when she sees it all._

  _“Did you bring pyjamas?” Calum quirks an eyebrow, turning to face his friend. Michael’s cheeks heat up and Calum can’t help but smile. He’d slept over Michael’s before - far too many times to count now - but had somehow forgotten pj’s and ended up sleeping in a baggy pair of Michael’s least favorite. All in all it was a Calum mishap and he should’ve been the one cringing at the memory, but Michael’d gone as far as to compliment Calum in the striped pyjamas before nodding off._

  _Calum, of course, hadn’t let him live it down - at least not yet._

  _Mr. Scott calls the class to their seats, already beginning to write out the day's agenda on the chalkboard. His handwriting is nice, it flowed smoothly and he always dotted his i’s. Calum wants his sloppy scrawl to look that pretty one day._

  _He makes his way to his seat, squirming behind Michael’s pushed out chair and nudging the boys head. “Scoot in, loser.” A scoff is heard but Michael pushes his chair in, already fiddling with a pencil._

  _Class goes by slowly and Calum keeps looking at the clock. He’s excited to say the least. While Michael has full control over the house from the time they get home until six, and complete run of the basement, Calum has the overbearing presence of Mali and his mum looking to stuff the two boys and coddle them up in blankets - despite his mum’s slight distaste for the sandy haired boy._

  _When the final bell rings and Mr. Scott dismisses them from their seats, Calum packs his belongings slowly, knowing fully well that trying to grab his bag would result in a bruised shin. Michael disappears into the bunch, always one to fight his way to and back. He always comes out unscathed and this time was no different. He has Calum’s bag in hand, half zippered and with his reusable water bottle in the side pouch._

  _“Thanks!” Calum beams, stuffing his notebooks and pencils into the bag and zippering it fully. Michael had already packed up and was waiting patiently in the aisle between their desks. Slowly but surely the class disperses and Calum follows Michael out of the classroom and through the hallway to the back of the school. His house is a good fifteen minutes away but if they cut through the park behind the playground it’s only ten._

  _Michael tucks his hands in his pockets as they walked. Calum has always liked Michael’s hands. They are small, dainty in size and soft like he rubbed cocoa butter into them every night before going to bed. Calum knows Michael’s mum is very pushy with staying moisturized, especially in the winter season. His own hands are decent sized, sort of large and not as smooth but Mali will sometimes read his palms and tell him his future, and then ask him to paint her right hand with whatever polish she’s coated over her left._

  _“Is your mum home?” Michael crunches over dry leaves and kicks at a broken twig. His hair is growing out nicely, hanging in his face messily and streaked with blonde highlights that look golden in the sunlight._

  _“She should be,” Calum says. They cross the playground, Calum walking on the wooden beam outline around the wood chipped area._

  _Michael nods and pushes a swing. “Do you think Chloe is cute?” She isn't in their class but Michael and Calum sometimes ate lunch with her on Tuesdays. Her hair is light blonde, almost cornsilk, and she’s missing a bottom tooth._

  _“Yeah, she's pretty.” Calum affirms when Michael turns to look at him, cheeks tinged pink and lower lip tucked between his teeth. Chloe sometimes shares her clementines with Calum in exchange for a handful of his goldfish or celery stalks._

  _“I want to be her boyfriend.” Michael smiles sheepishly, hooking his arm around the metal chain of a swing._

  _Calum stops walking. “Her boyfriend?” He laughs, scrunching his nose up in distaste. “But she plays video games with us sometimes.” Calum has never thought about being boyfriend and girlfriend with a girl in his grade before. And now, putting Michael and Chloe into that perspective makes him almost uneasy. “It won't ruin our friendship, right?”_

  _Michael shakes his head and walks on, slowly as so Calum could catch up. They walk home quietly, and Calum is unsure of what to say. Mali is fifteen and she’s only had one boyfriend before. His name is Tom and he helps Calum with his lattice math before dinner a sometimes. Michael is five years younger than Mali and already wants to be Chloe's boyfriend._

  _“We should come play football sometime.” Calum says as they walked through the park. There are older kids there, shuffling a ball back and forth between their feet and laughing. Michael laughs and agrees, probably a lie because Michael never goes out of his way for physical exertion._

  _His house is a few down from the park and both of his parents cars are in the driveway. Calum opens the front door, met with the sweet smell of chocolate. His mum is probably making brownies for dessert._

  _“Hey baby.” His mum steps out of the kitchen, drying her hands off on a dish towel. “How are you, Mike?” She’s the first person beside his parents to call him by the shortened name._

  _“Hi mum,” Calum drops his backpack on the floor as Michael greets the woman. He takes Michael’s pillow from him and goes over to the stairs. “We’re going to go play video games.”_

  _Michael grins, nodding and follows after the boy, overnight bag hooked on his shoulder. He’s leaning slightly, like the bag weighs a lot and is heavy on his side. Calum wouldn’t be all that surprised. Michael dumps his bag out on the floor the second Calum closes the door, video game boxes clattering on the hardwood flooring with clothes._

  _They push the clothes aside and clear a large space in front of the TV, Michael already setting up the gaming system as Calum puts a blanket down and pushes his two bean bag chairs - one’s actually Mali’s but she’s letting him use it for the night - in front of where Michael’s sliding a disc in._

  _Calum beats Michael three out of seven times at Mario Cart before they’re called for dinner. The meal is uneventful despite Mali and Tom clearly playing footsies under the table - Calum got kicked at least three times. Michael is the center of attention throughout but Calum thinks that’s good. His parents can see Michael’s not that bad even though he gave their son a black eye four years ago._

  _Mali and Tom excuse themselves from the table first to go watch a movie in the den. Calum smiles shyly at Michael as the boy bounces impatiently in his seat. He eats quickly while Calum is slow._

  _“Do you wanna play FIFA now?” Michael asks when Calum’s finally finished and is wiping his mouth on his arm. His mum scoffs at his makeshift napkin but sends them on their way back to Calum’s bedroom. They play FIFA and Michael wins despite Calum’s supposed knowledge of the sport - and Calum is quick to point out that it’s Michael’s game so he must play it often. His argument falls on deaf ears as Michael’s too busy grinning at his wins._

  _They play until late in the night when Calum’s mum brings popcorn up and Michael decides that greasing up the controllers with butter isn’t worth it. They settle on watching a horror movie in their beanbag chairs and throwing popcorn back and forth. At times like these, Calum wishes he had a dog._

  _Michael flips through the channels when the gory scenes look too fake and Calum groans about how pathetically made the movie is. There’s nothing on but romance movies and spanish soap operas, and they end up washing their hands and playing another two rounds of FIFA - which splits wins between the two - and arguing for a good half hour about the stuffing in the bean bag chairs._

  _Sleepovers with Michael are always fun and always tiring. Calum yawns, rubbing his eyes as he slouches into the chair and curls up. His toes are getting cold - it’s definitely a family trait as his dad and Mali both have cold feet all the time - and finally he relents, logging off of the game despite Michael’s protests and crawling into bed. The sheets are cold but they’ll warm up soon enough, especially when Michael finally joins him._

  _After a good five minutes Michael groans and shuts the TV, the room falling into almost full darkness. The bed dips as the boy crawls on, nearly kicking Calum off in his attempt to wrestle the blankets down to he can climb under them._

  _“Where’s my pillow?” Michael pokes Calum’s shoulder. “Are you asleep?”_

  _Calum groans, blindly reaching down to feel for the pillow. He can’t find it and instead, shifts his own around so Michael can rest his head. A soft murmur is heard, probably Michael’s thanks and soon he can feel the older boys arm against his. Calum blinks up at the ceiling, breathing softly._

  _“Do you think Chloe will be my girlfriend?” Michael sounds hopeful and Calum hums in response._

_He knows she will but he can’t tell Michael that. Instead, he hums again, this time much longer and dragged out. Michael huffs in annoyance and Calum feels the bed shake as the boy turns onto his side to look at Calum._

_“When we’re like, thirty,” Calum says before Michael can speak - probably snap at him for his noisy response. “If we’re both single and stuff, we should get married.”_

_Michael’s quiet for a moment. All Calum can hear is his breathing, which is heavy and cool on his shoulder. “Yeah, alright.” He hums teasingly. “When no one loves us, we’ll love each other.”_

~~~

Calum woke up to the sound of retching followed by the noisy dry heaves Luke often did when he attempted to not pity puke. His vision was blurry and his body ached like someone had taken a sledgehammer to every bone and muscle. Michael was pressed up against him, halfway on top of him and completely naked. As usual.

Another round of Luke’s pitiful sobs bled under the door to Michael’s room before Calum collected himself enough to sit up. He regretted the movement immediately. His mind swam slowly, like someone had doused his brain in gelatin and it had started hardening. The hard pounding in his head was worse than it had ever been before and made him want to lay back down and sleep the pain away. He couldn’t though, not with Luke vomiting his guts out not ten feet from the doorway in the bathroom.

Ashton was probably still asleep and Luke was too much of a sweetheart to voluntarily wake someone up to baby him as he emptied the contents of his stomach. That never stopped them from repeatedly drinking their dinners although Calum was sure he had a sudden dislike for Captain Morgan stemming from an incident back home in Sydney at one of their friends ragers.

“What are you doing?” Michael tightened his grip around Calum’s waist, voice heavy with sleep. His morning voice was wank bank material and Calum had at least twenty audio clips saved in his phone that Michael had sent him when he’d woken up with an idea or song lyrics and his body and voice were still laden with sleep.

Calum squirmed in Michael’s tight grasp. “Luke’s getting sick.” He heard the toilet flush and the soft noises of Luke probably laying against the wall in his boxers, pitifully trying to hold himself together and not have another trip over the loo again.

Michael’s arms loosened as he sat up, groaning miserably. Calum took that moment to his advantage, scooting out of the bed and shuffling a pair of boxers on backwards. It didn’t matter at the moment, Luke did.

“Your back is fucking-” Michael whistled before cringing, eyes blowing wide. “Did we fuck?” He sounded surprised, and in all honesty, Calum was too. They’d never made it that far after drinking as much as they had. “Your dick, or something fucking huge, was up my ass.”

Luke started dry heaving again and Calum sighed. He wasn’t mentally prepared to be the responsible one, not with the killer pounding his head was dancing with or the slight sting he suddenly felt on his back. He swung the bedroom door open and stepped out into the dark hall. The curtains were drawn and Calum knew Luke had pulled them shut either last night or this morning before landing himself in the bathroom.

The blonde was stretched out on the bathroom floor, cheeks red and wet from tears. He was naked, goosebumps on his arms and legs as Calum kneeled down on the floor and reached to close the toilet seat.

“Hey, babe.” Calum soothed, reaching to brush his leg. Luke whimpered miserably and held out a shaky hand. “Do you feel better?” Calum took his hand and helped him sit up before standing and going to the sink. He filled a paper cup with water and gave it to the boy.

“No,” Luke said shakily. He looked exhausted and Calum wanted nothing more than to tuck him into his bed and coddle him until he felt better. Luke drank the water, swishing some around in his mouth before opening the lid up and spitting it out. He flushed the toilet and crawled onto his knees, using the toilet bowl as leverage to stand up. “Ashton-” He trailed off, shaking his head as a fresh set of tears rolled down his cheeks. “My ass hurts. A lot.”

Calum let Luke fall into his body, ignoring the boys clammy hands and feeble attempt to wrap himself around Calum completely. Michael stumbled out of their room a few minutes later as Calum tried to calm Luke down. He blinked, wide eyed and confused, at Luke’s teary eyed and naked state before stepping back into the room and closing the door.

Of course, Calum was left to care over the baby of the band. “Let’s brush your teeth and you can go lay down with Michael, okay?” Calum led him over to the sink and pulled his toothbrush from the holder. He left Luke brushing his teeth and went back into Michael’s room. “Put pants on,” He rubbed his temples and glared at the older boy. “Luke’s coming in to cuddle.”

“I can stay naked,” Michael argued. He’d already pulled a pair of boxers up his legs but was clearly working to annoy Calum. At Calum’s harsh glare, this one worse than the previous, he chuckled and patted the bed. “Where’s Ash?”

Luke bumbled into the room and fell onto the bed, crawling around until he could tuck himself under the blankets and press up against Michael’s side. Calum closed the door before climbing in with the two, rubbing Luke’s back as he cried into Michael’s shoulder.

“I think we had sex,” Luke mumbled. Calum and Michael shared a look, both unsure at what to say. That was definitely something Calum had never thought would happen, Luke and Ashton - who made fun of Michael and Calum for interband relations. “My ass hurts so much.”

Calum peeled back from the blonde and pushed the covers from his lower body. Sure enough, his ass was covered in hand prints and bruises. Calum bit his lower lip, tucking it between his teeth and shot Michael a look. Luke and Ashton had went much farther than sex last night, there was no doubt about it. Not with the handprints on Luke’s ass.

“I don’t even know how I feel,” Luke cried, tugging at the blankets to cover himself again. Calum knew he’d seen the marks, he wasn’t even bothering to question what Calum was looking at. He knew.

“Sore.” Came Michael’s short response. “Don’t worry,” He said, stroking the blondes side softly. He shot Calum a teasing smile. “I’m sore too.” Luke snorted, clearly not in the mood for Michael’s lazy attempts at humor, and rolled away to look at Calum.

“Can I borrow some pants?” He asked, reaching up to rub his eyes. They were puffy and red and Calum’s heart went out to his bandmate. “I’m going to go make breakfast.” As usual, Luke was sliding from his broken to voracious ways, or as his mum said ‘eating his pain away’. Calum nodded anyway and let Luke squirm from the bed and search through the piles of clothes for a pair of boxers.

Michael stared wide eyed at Luke’s ass, probably confused as to how Ashton could hit him hard and long enough to mark him up before Calum slapped his cheek softly, drawing his attention away from the upset boy.

“I’ll make pancakes.” Luke said, running a hand through his hair and fixing the messily thrown strands. Calum nodded as Luke left.

“Holy shit,” Michael hissed, grabbing Calum’s hand. “He’s so fucking bruised!” Calum nodded again, sliding closer to Michael. “How is he walking?”

Calum had no idea and gave a shrug. “He’s definitely a virgin.” He instantly regretted the words. “Or he was.”

Pots and pans clattered in the kitchen but Calum made no move to go inspect whatever damage Luke might have caused. He needed to be alone and sort his emotions out. If Luke wanted cuddles, he’d search them out without a second thought.

“Is Ashton in his room?” Michael shifted closer to Calum and pulled his boxers off before swinging his leg over top of Calum’s thighs and drawing him in. He snuggled in close, tucking his hand in Calum’s boxers and attempting to pull them off.

Calum lifted his hips and let Michael undress him. “Yeah, Luke wouldn’t go back in-” Another hit of metal on metal, probably the frying pan being placed on the stovetop. Luke was taking his anger out on the cookingware and Calum knew he would be in deep shit if he broke anything.

“I can’t believe you fucked me.” Michael quickly changed the subject, kissing Calum’s shoulder softly. He wiggled his eyebrows and sighed. “You haven’t done that since we were eighteen.”

“You always wrestle me and somehow win,” Calum shot back, grinning. Michael laughed too, grinding his hips up against Calum’s thigh. “You can’t fuck me when Luke could come in crying any minute.”

Michael scoffed, pulling away. “As if. He’s walked in on us far too many times to not know what you and I both look like when we come, not to mention he’s seen my dick and I’m pretty sure he’s seen my dick in you.” Michael ground his hips down again before rolling on top of Calum completely. He ran his fingers up Calum’s stomach to his collarbones and smiled.

“Or maybe you could fuck me again.” It came out like a purr and Calum shuddered, nodding quickly. “I fucked your back up pretty nice.” Michael said, kissing Calum’s stomach and humming.

“Let me fuck you in the shower,” Calum ignored Michael’s last statement, instead rolling them over to he was on top. Michael grinned, nodding and Calum quickly slid off of him and pulled him up towards the bathroom.

“Breakfast will be ready in like ten minutes.” Michael said, closing the bathroom door behind them. He pushed Calum up against the wall and kissed him. “You need to brush your teeth.”

Calum scoffed, spitting the words back at Michael and turned the water on before moving to the sink. He pulled his toothbrush from the holder after putting Luke’s back and doused it in water before squirting toothpaste on it. Michael fixed the water before joining Calum at the sink and brushing his own teeth.

“Kiss me.” Michael said as he rinsed his mouth out after Calum. He did and Michael hummed in appreciation. “Much better.” He affirmed, wiping his mouth on his arm and moving to the shower. He stepped in and Calum turned it on, letting the cool water rain down as it slowly grew hotter.

Calum followed him in and touched his side softly as Michael poured shampoo in his palm. It smelled like lemongrass and sage, and sometimes it gave Calum headaches. Michael washed his hair slowly, letting Calum touch him, grazing over every muscle and soft area his body held. They were supposed to have sex, it was mandated in the fact that it was morning and Calum was definitely up for it, but Michael was being too soft and pliant under Calum’s fingers. It didn’t feel right, he wanted to curl up with Michael under a blanket and sleep, maybe kiss a little, but just relax and laze the day away.

Michael washed Calum’s hair too, conditioned it afterwards with Ashton’s sleek and shine curl conditioner and Calum struggled to not pin Michael to the cold tile wall and kiss him. He wouldn’t have been rejected, but again, it didn’t feel right. They washed off slowly, by that time Calum heard Ashton stumbling around and another pan clatter, this one probably to the floor, and figured they’d spent enough time hiding under the warm spray.

They dried off quickly and Michael finally kissed Calum, hard and soft at the same time before pulling the door open and letting the steam escape into the hallway. Calum stole a pair of Michael’s mesh shorts and opted to go shirtless, and forced Michael to pull a pair of boxers on. He wasn’t sure which ones were clean and which ones weren’t anymore. The floor had become a toxic waste site for clothing and other various objects.

Michael left Calum to venture off to the kitchen before he stumbled back into the room, wide eyed and red cheeked. “I shit you not, they’re making out on the table.” Calum crinkled his nose in distaste. They ate on the table, albeit not too often, and Luke or Ashton’s ass, was not something that should’ve been placed on something food goes on.

Calum followed Michael down to the kitchen, the thick scent of pancakes sending his stomach into a tizzy of growls and manly noises. He smiled sheepishly at Michael’s raised eyebrows and stood in the doorway. Sure enough, Ashton had Luke on the table and their mouths slotted together.

“I’m hungry too,” Calum broke into their softcore foreplay with a snort, “But I’d rather eat food than someone else’s face.” That earned him a hurt noise from Michael who brushed past the two boys who’d jumped apart at the sudden entrance of their bandmates. Michael sat down at the table as Luke slid off of it, eyes on his lap. He forked two pancakes onto his plate and proceeded to drown them in syrup before cutting them up and shoveling a forkful into his mouth.

“You’re disgusting,” Ashton remarked, pouring himself a glass of milk and sitting down besides Luke. He wasn’t very embarrassed about being caught, not like Luke at least who was still looking down at his hands.

The snarky comment about Luke’s bruised body was on the tip of Calum’s tongue, only Michael rubbed his thigh soothingly, sensing Calum’s snap. They shared a look before Calum sighed and sat down besides Luke, brushing the younger boys shoulder. Ashton forked a pancake onto his plate and drizzled syrup on it while Luke looked on, finally tearing his gaze up from his lap.

Calum knew Luke wanted to address the elephant in the room, he always like to air the grievances and issues between the band and this time was no different. There was no way Ashton didn’t know what happened the night prior, he’d woken up in Luke’s room, probably naked still, and there had to be signs besides Luke’s obvious discomfort.

“I need more jeans,” Luke finally spoke, drawing Michael and Ashton’s attention to him. He poured himself a glass of orange juice and handed the carton to Calum. Michael looked between the two younger members, mouth full of chewed pancake before he nodded, agreeing to go with the younger boy.

Luke plucked two pancakes between his fingers and dropped them on his plate before ripping them up. He was a finger food kind of guy and had somehow brushed his tendencies off on Calum who ate the same way.

Breakfast was quiet, filled with the scraping of forks on the plates and glasses being placed back on the table. Luke finished first and dumped his plate in the sink, scurrying off to the bathroom for a shower. Ashton dropped his fork and stood up, stopping from going any farther by Michael’s hand on his arm.

“He needs to be alone.” Michael slowly transitioned into protective mode as he glared up at Ashton. It made Calum uneasy, to see his bandmates suddenly in such a predicament. Michael and him definitely shouldn’t have been meddling whatsoever, but Luke was clearly distraught and Ashton was the clueless baby that needed answers.

Ashton sat back down with a sigh. He didn’t bother finishing the remains of his pancakes and neither did Michael. There was too much tension in the air and Calum felt the hostile air between the who boys in front of him. He quickly excused himself, hearing Michael’s thundering footsteps a few minutes later. Michael always threw his weight into his steps when he was angry and while Calum found it absolutely endearing, he also knew it meant Michael was holding himself back from lashing out and throwing a punch to whomever pissed him off.

“He’s so fucking stupid!” Michael slammed the door shut behind him as Calum sat down on the bed. The shower was running and he could smell Luke’s shampoo. Michael paced back and forth, fuming quietly.

Calum couldn’t argue, not about this. He patted the bed and Michael stormed over, bouncing down onto the mattress with all of his weight. “Calm down, babe.” He soothed, rubbing Michael’s shoulders with the flat of his palm. The older boy carried far too much stress and anxiety inside of his gangly body.

Michael nodded, always looking to Calum for relaxation. Calum kissed behind his right ear softly. “Get dressed, Luke wants to go out.” That was the only push Calum needed to give for Michael to relent from sulking the day away and tug a pair of jeans on - possibly his own but Calum wasn’t sure.

Calum strained to keep from touching Michael as they dressed, occasionally slipping up and petting the older boys side or touching his cheek. The intimacy was there, it always was and Calum held it dear to his heart that he had a connection so wonderful and deep with his best friend.

“Sit down,” Michael said, buttoning his jeans and slipping his feet into his sneakers. He brought Calum’s over and let the boy put them on. Michael tied Calum’s sneakers and combed his fingers through his hair, flattening the otherwise messy blonde strands. He was still angry, Calum was too but Michael was worse. He glared at Ashton when he knocked on the door and said he was ready to go.

“I didn’t know this was a band outing.” Michael had growled, eyeing Ashton up. That earned him a tight lipped grin before he slammed the door in Ashton’s face. Calum had caught the soft look in Ashton’s eyes, it was ignored by Michael who was too busy being bitter over Luke’s tearful morning so far.

“Go on easy on him,” Calum tried, rubbing Michael’s shoulders again as he leaned over the bureau in the room and closed his eyes. They were quickly piecing the night before together, at least from when they arrived home from wherever they’d last been and it wasn’t very pretty. The front door hadn’t been locked and they’d left the car god knows where.

A majority of the night from the time they stumbled out of the first bar was a blur, much like it usually was but there was something more that was nagging heavily at Calum’s mind. He straightened his shirt and took Michael’s hand. “Listen, it’ll all be okay. We don’t know what happened last night, Mike. Luke and Ashton don’t know either. But we’re all stressing over this with no idea of what went down.”

Michael nodded and stood up, cracking his back. He looked at Calum in the mirror and gave a small smile. “You’re always so reasonable.” And he was. It was his role besides killer bassist and nicest dresser. Calum smiled back.

Ashton was leaning against the counter when they finally made it to the kitchen, Luke in tow and glaring at his feet. “Luke,” Ashton tried, voice low and soft. He sounded upset and Calum hummed thoughtfully. The blonde looked up at him, shaking his head. It was so unlike Luke to push a confrontation away.

“Let’s go,” He said instead, looking at Michael. The older boy wrapped his arm around Luke’s shoulders and pulled him close. Calum didn’t miss the tight clench of Ashton’s jaw nor the sorry look in his eyes. He followed Michael and Luke to the door and down the front steps. Ashton locked the door behind them and caught up with Calum.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him.” So Ashton knew at least enough to realize Luke was bruised up. He looked at the boys ahead of them and shook his head. “He asked-” Ashton sighed and looked down at his feet. “He asked me to hit him and I did.”

Calum didn’t know how to piece that all together. “He’s really bruised up, Ash.” Calum brushed Ashton’s hand with his own, trying to not work himself up and snap. “I think he’s scared.” Which was completely understandable. Calum felt torn between his two bandmates and thankful Michael was there to comfort Luke while Calum consoled Ashton.

“You really hate it here, don’t you?.” Ashton asked as Calum sidestepped a puddle and grimaced. He’d worn his converse and was definitely _not_ messing these ones up too. Brushing Ashton’s attempt to change the subject off, Calum humored him and let the conversation stem off.

“It’s disgusting.” Calum didn’t even remember it raining the night before. He sure as hell didn’t walk through any puddles in his sneakers, which he definitely remembers wearing out, and they weren’t scuffed up like he’d been running through the rain trying to get home. “My shirt is literally sticking to me and we’ve only been walking for ten minutes.”

The house they were staying in was fifteen minutes from a shopping center, this one filled with designer brands and coffee shops with outrageous prices. Luke liked splurging on his jeans though and the band continued to humor him with the outings. The town itself was small, bustling but quaint and Calum could have fallen in love with it had it been in any other climate than the thick, humid Floridian one.

“I'll admit it's a bit sticky,” Ashton laughed as they stopped at a crosswalk. They hadn't ran into any fans yet which was nice. It was hard, signing napkins or other various objects and posing for pictures with people throughout the day. And being the fact that Calum was sweltering would only add onto his discomfort.

“I like it.” Luke turned and voice his opinion with a smile. Calum had always liked how Luke couldn't keep from joining a conversation. He was nosy and talkative, and no matter the situation he always added to the debate.

Michael scoffed as they crossed the street into the town and grabbed Luke’s hand. It looked weird, felt weird too but Calum didn’t say anything. It wasn’t his place at all to be laying claim to Michael when they weren’t labeling and Calum was still too afraid to address the whole situation in general.

Calum sees them before he hears them, for the first time ever. A group of fans, no more than ten girls who look absolutely surprised to see the band out and about, zig zag through the street across to where Luke’s contemplating going into Quiksilver and looking over the penny boards.

“Congratulations!” She’s tall, almost Ashton’s height and brunette. The rest of the girls crowded around and echoed her.

Luke turned, eyebrows raised. He shifted awkwardly, moving in towards Calum’s side instinctively. Michael and Ashton, being the two more outgoing members of the bad - albeit Michael’s crude sense of brushing people off occasionally - jumped into conversation, or at least attempted to.

“Congratulations for what?” Calum broke in, allowing Luke to curl into his back and watch over his shoulder. They’d probably won another stupid award from Sugarscape or ‘Worst Band of the Year’ again. Despite the title of the latter, Calum and Luke were always pleased to win an award like so.

Ashton had his phone out, probably scouring Twitter for the newest trend related to the band. Finishing tour was always hell, Michael would go on a social media hiatus without realizing it and Luke would post repeatedly, either pictures or drunken tweets. Calum had turned off his notifications from everything three days ago and knew Michael and Ashton had too. He hadn’t even bothered checking in besides the occasional post sent from his messages.

“Holy shit,” Ashton breathed and the girl nodded when he looked at her with wide eyes. His gaze flashed to Calum then Michael and his face paled.

“You were all super wasted and the camera angle wasn’t too hot but then Michael tweeted.” And Calum knew right then something happened. A camera angle? What was videoed? He couldn’t remember the night prior for the life of him and the other three were just as useless. No one usually documented the stupid stunts they attempted or the occasional groping that occurred interband. It was pure luck and Calum was thankful, _usually_.

Ashton shook his head and turned his phone around. Calum couldn’t see the picture very clearly, it was grainy and dark but he could make out Luke’s tall figure frozen on the screen and his own hand in Michaels as they made their way up a short flight of stairs. They were definitely using each other for support which Calum admired seeing as Michael was usually a _you’re on your own_ type of guy when it came to drunk stumbling.

There was nothing unusual about the picture give their display of affection and Calum could easily pass that off as them being a little too friendly. “We’re just holding hands.” Ashton’s previous outburst of swears were unprovoked at such a measly picture.

Michael stepped closer and stared at the screen. His eyes widened and a silent curse fell from his lips. “What did I tweet?” He sounded angry. Calum shifted uncomfortably and looked at the picture again.

_West Palm Beach Friends Church._

It held no importance to Calum give him and Michael clearly going inside of it. He pulled the phone from Ashton and zoomed in, ignoring the girl’s chattering on about the tweets and what had been speculated about the night prior. They were nuzzled up closely, hands joined as they went up the stairs and into the building.

 _‘Just saw Michael and Calum at WPB Friends Church!’_ the caption read. The picture had over fourteen hundred likes and eleven hundred reblogs, and Calum was terrified to open the tweets going back.

He looked up, handing the phone back to Ashton and going for his own. There were over ten missed calls from his mum and thirteen from Mali, not to mention the bombardment of texts from the two of them and a few friends. He couldn’t read those, not now when he was just beginning to piece the night before back together.

“Yeah, you guys got married.” The girl said with ease and Calum choked, already scrolling through his feed for Michael’s tweet. It popped up with a picture of the two of them, lip locked in the middle of the street and captioned _‘just married_ ’.

“Married.” Calum reiterated slowly, the word foreign on his tongue. His ring finger was bare, that much he knew and while the concept didn’t seep in at first, he knew it was bad. Married. To his bandmate no less, his fuck buddy, best friend with no labels that made Calum’s heart swell far too often for it to be anything less than feelings.

He looked at Michael. Luke cleared his throat and rubbed Calum’s back. “Where are your rings?” That caused the girls to squeal in surprise, clearly not having realized Michael and Calum had gone without.

Michael shot Luke a look but wouldn’t meet Calum’s eyes. His own face burned hot, surprise and anxiety running through his veins. They’d just finished touring, ended an amazing six months on the road in the pits of hell and already were causing trouble. It was only a matter of time until management called them in and their parents got in the middle.

“We’re married,” Calum touched Michael’s arm. He didn’t expect Michael’s shy grin or rosy cheeks. His mother was going to _kill_ him. His phone vibrated in his hand, another text from Mali. It had to be the middle of the night in Australia, and his family was probably pacing anxiously, waiting to hear it was all a rumor stemming from too much affection on his and Michael’s part.

 _What did you do?_ Her message was sharp and cut across how deep in shit they were. He retracted his hand from Michael’s arm and pushed back into Luke’s stomach. He needed to go home, _home-home_ and talk to his mum. He needed reassurance on this, stability and comfort that he wouldn’t get from any of his bandmates.

“Come on,” Luke directed, taking Calum’s forearm in his hand and nudging him forward slightly. Calum thanked the world for Luke as they left the group of girls and their bandmates. Michael caught his eye and they shared an uneasy look. This wasn’t something they’d ever planned on happening, at least not that Calum knew of and it definitely threw a wrench into his comfortable sense of getting laid at any given moment.

“I hate it here.” Calum spat as they stopped at the same crosswalk they’d waited at before. It was a sign, don’t go any further and Calum should’ve listened to it and stayed home before venturing out into the hot Florida air. He regretted learning what happened the night previous from fans rather than knowing fully for himself. It was a punch to the gut, that he’d let it go that far. He vaguely remembers brushing Michael’s teasing proposal off, at least the first time, and he knows Michael’ wouldn’t pester or force him into anything he wasn’t condoning to. “I want to go home.”

Luke sighed and crossed the street, leading Calum. “Trust me, I do too.”

_~~~_

_Calum’s sixteen and he’s only kissed one girl._

_It was a miracle he’d gotten that far and Michael teased him repeatedly about his two minute lip lock session with Sasha from psychics . She was pretty, tall too and had the nicest blue eyes Calum had ever seen - after Luke of course. It wasn’t necessarily a nice experience either. She used a lot of tongue and Calum felt like he’d slobbered all over her face rather than kissed her lips. They’d parted ways easily but Calum had been shy around girls the rest of the night, staying behind Michael as he chatted away and left girls twisting their hair around their fingers teasingly._

_Michael never played games. He wasn’t cautious or careful, no, Michael was direct and somehow that won out in the long run. Calum assumed everyone saw how Michael grew from a sprouting boy with vibrant green eyes to a teenager with wild hair and a taste for wearing chains and band shirts. Puberty hit Michael like a truck and he held on for the ride, bouncing over every pothole and curb that stood in his way until he towered at a tall five foot ten and squeezed himself into tight skinny jeans every morning._

_He told Luke about sex despite Ashton’s constant pleas to leave him alone, and fueled Luke’s crush on the drummer. Calum egged him on, too, enjoying the blush that would spread out over Luke’s cheeks and how Ashton would get all flustered and plead with Michael to ‘lay off’._

_That only added onto Calum’s drive and had him pushing from Ashton’s car three days before they left to support One Direction on the Take Me Home tour and shuffle into the house after Michael.  He’d planned on crying, maybe begging too if Michael decided not to help him out._

_Touring as a virgin, let alone possibly being into guys rather than girls was a nightmare Calum wouldn’t wish on even his worst enemy. He was sixteen and needed to be instructed by someone he cared about, that he trusted and was comfortable around enough that sex would come like second nature._

_Michael is his person._

_He spends the night in Michael’s room, under his warm body and soft touch. Michael plays the card of being experienced nicely in front of Ashton and Luke but Calum knew better, still letting Michael play his body like a violin._

_“Thank you,” Calum says the next morning, tucked into Michael’s side with a leg thrown over the older boys hips. He can smell Michael’s deodorant and kisses his shoulder gratefully. Michael hums, still doused in sleep but smiles nevertheless._

_They get up late and have lunch with Michael’s parents out on the back porch. Calum plays with the ice cubes in his lemonade until Karen asks what’s wrong. She pats Calum’s hand and asks him to help her clean up the dishes and table while Michael helps his dad pull the lawnmower from the back of the shed._

_Karen washes off a cutting board and places it on the counter near a clean towel. “Do you regret it?” She doesn’t look up from her sinkful of water but Calum can see the smile on her face, much like the one Michael sports when he’s sincerely smiling._

  _There’s no question to what she’s referring too and Calum’s almost too ashamed to admit it out loud that he’s had sex with her son. It’s not his ideal topic of discussion but he figures, it’s probably not her’s either._

_“No,” Calum says, unfolding the towel and drying the board. It smells like Lavender and Chamomile dish soap. Karen nods and looks at him. He doesn’t know what else to say, the night prior was good, better than good if he’s completely honest but he isn’t up to discussing his sex life with the boy he’s done the deed with mum. “I’m sorry about, you know, doing it.”_

_There’s a pause before Karen replies. She empties the sink and takes the towel from Calum’s hand. “I’m not going to berate you, hun.” The dishes excuse was nothing more than a reason to drag him away from Michael and pull this discussion from him._

_Karen shoo’s him back outside where Michael is stood over the lawn mower with his dad, both sweating and looking entirely too pissed off at the inanimate object for it to be working. Michael hates being outside and a clear look of distaste sits on his cheeks as his father rambles on about checking the machine for oil and gas._

_He tells Michael to go do something and laughs at his son’s relieved smile. Calum follows Michael into the house where his mum is breaking off the tips of green beans and throwing them into a plastic bag._

_“What are you boys up to?” She asks, not pausing from her work. Calum shuffles awkwardly behind Michael. He doesn’t know if he should bring his and Karen's conversation up to Michael when they’re finally alone. He’s not even sure how he’d be able to bring it up, add it to whatever they’re talking about._

_‘Hey, funny story, your mum knows we had sex last night.’ would totally fly with Michael, who’d probably get all red and flustered as his mum knowing his sex life wasn’t on his agenda. Calum would have to keep it a secret, or something along the lines of one for a while or until Michael brought the subject up - which Calum doubted he’d ever do._

_“Think we’re going to go play FIFA in the basement.” Michael shrugs and picks a green bean end out of the bowl, throwing it in the bag and wiping his fingers off on the leg of his jean shorts. Karen nods, catching Calum’s gaze. He prays his cheeks don’t flush and he doesn’t end up front and center on ‘why are you blushing? what did you do?’_

_Neither one says anything and Calum escapes down to the basement behind Michael a few minutes later after he promises to let Calum go home tonight. It’s their second to last night home and there’s already a band sleepover planned for their last night home. Calum needs to go home one last time, sleep in his own bed and eat breakfast with his family before jetting off around the world to support One Direction._

_Calum loses six of the nine games they play and let’s Michael tackle him onto the couch for a tickle fight before Karen is calling down that she’s going to drive him home. She disappears from the doorway and Michael sits up from where he had Calum pinned._

_“I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Michael picks up the controllers and disconnects Calums player. He puts them away and turns to Calum, grinning when he see’s the boy still sprawled out on the couch. “Better get going before mum comes down and drags you home.”_

_“Michael,” Calum breathes his name softly, catching at the end. He doesn’t want to leave. That means it’s all over, whatever ‘it’ is. Tomorrow will be awkward, unsurprisingly so, and Calum doesn’t want that. “Kiss me.”_

_He sits up as Michael steps to him, touching Calum’s cheek softly before sinking to his knees on the carpet. Calum can hear Karen moving around upstairs, probably waiting for him to make an appearance. She isn’t stupid though, she’s giving them a few moments to say goodbye which is sweet but makes Calum feel like the twenty-two hour wait will affect his and Michael’s friendship a lot more than it should._

_“Don’t look so glum, chum.” Michael teases. His cheeks are pink and Calum just wants a kiss. He won’t plead for one, that would be too much. Michael grins and leans in, chapped lips meeting Calum’s dry ones. It’s not like the kisses the night before and Calum is grateful. Michael puts a lot into his kisses, even the smallest ones._

_Calum pulls away, already missing the warmth of Michael’s face being so close to his. “Thank you.’” He murmurs, eyes dropping to the carpet. Michael touches his cheek again but says nothing. Calum stands up after Michael does and pats his friend on the shoulder. It doesn’t feel right but he doesn’t push._

_Karen is on the couch with a book when Calum finally makes his way into the living room. She smiles at him and asks him if he’s ready to go. His bag is already on the floor by the door, and he nods. Michael never drove him home with his mum and Calum wished that was different._

_~~~_

Mali answered the phone with a yawn, tripping over Calum’s name with a huff. He should’ve facetimed her, that would’ve been better. Seeing her face would only make him feel better about the whole situation.

“Mal,” Calum felt like crying but no tears pricked his eyes. He didn’t know where to start, there wasn’t a beginning and there wasn’t an end.

“I guess a congratulations is in order.” Mali teased goodnaturedly and Calum’s lower lip quivered. He needed a hug but had already pushed Luke from the room with a snarl. Michael and Ashton were still out, probably buying Luke’s jeans and whatever else they assumed would be necessary.

Calum didn’t know if he could face Michael right then. They were married, coupled, labeled  and both on edge with the newfound information. He didn’t blame Michael at all, if anything it was a shared fault that they both needed to digest separately. “What time is it?” His voice shook and he heard Mali sigh.

“Quarter to four.”

“I’m sorry.” Calum tried only for his sister to shush him. She never minded when he called, early morning or middle of the night and he was eternally grateful to have her. “Mali, I’ve fucked up.”

She tutted and he heard a door close. “I wouldn’t choose that word necessarily.” There was a rustling sound and running water. She was probably making a pot of coffee, figuring she’d be up talking to her brother for the next few hours. “Mum always said you would marry Michael.”

That wasn’t much of a surprise to Calum, hearing her say that. Their families had speculations, many stemming from the countless sleepovers they continued to have despite living together in and out of hotels and tour buses for months. Calum never divulged enough for his family to do anything more than assume.

“I’m married, Mali.” It doesn’t feel right rolling off of his tongue. _Married._  He’s too young to have a husband, let alone for his bandmate and best friend to be the one tied down as his other half. Michael was that though, his other half, they were the complete circle and in any other situation, or even in another ten years, Calum would have no issue with vocalizing his thoughts on their relationship.

“You’re in love.” She said dreamily and Calum giggled. He rubbed at his eyes, glad when he felt no wetness.

Love was a small word with an awfully large commitment. He loved his family and his friends, the fans and his band, and he did love Michael. But outwardly saying it, whether to his face or in any other sense than friendly felt wrong; like he was attempting to push for something more than he knew they were both willing to give.

He shook his head, sitting down on the floor. It was the first time he’d stepped foot into his own room. It didn’t smell like Michael or cologne and Calum didn’t like it. “It’s not love.” His stomach stirred, threatening to bring his breakfast backup. He cared for Michael, deeply, and the connection was there, but it didn’t feel like love, not a single aspect of it.

Mali sighed. “Calum,” It was the first time she’d used his full name throughout the full conversation, as short as it was. “Whether you’re ready to label your feelings or not, Michael cares for you.” Calum knew, god, he knew how much Michael cared about him and he’d never take a chance to jeopardize that. “And you care for him.” She hummed and Calum could picture her leaning on the counter sipping at a mug of steaming coffee.

He wanted to tell her to go back to bed. He didn’t want to hear this but he couldn’t bring himself to hang up or butt in. Mali had reasoning, much like he usually did, and she was a backbone, his structure when everything started spinning.

“What are you going to do?”

It wasn’t a hard question, just six little words thrown together but they threw him for a loop. He needed to discuss this all with Michael, whether he wanted to or not. They were in this together, stuck on a two way street. Calum knew the one side trailed into a dead end and he was weary of the outcome should he bring it up to Michael first.

“I don’t know,” Calum whispered. He heard Ashton’s laugh outside and felt like throwing up. Mali sighed again.

She could only do so much for him and he wouldn’t let himself be consoled. “Don’t hurt him.” Mali was quiet for a moment. “And don’t hurt yourself.”

Calum rubbed at his eyes again and mumbled a goodbye. Mali said she loved him and Calum repeated it back. They didn’t hang up for a few moments and Calum hesitated, wanting nothing more than to ask her opinion. She hung up then and Calum sat with his phone against his ear until Ashton came up and asked if he was okay.

“I’m fine,” Calum said. He made no move to stand up and Ashton opened the door, peeking his head in to check on him.

Meeting Ashton’s eyes was like hell. The boys hazel eyes held a softness Calum wasn’t used to seeing and when Ashton slipped the rest of the way into the room and pulled Calum into a hug, he did nothing more than fold into Ashton’s chest and breath in the familiar smell of home.

~~~

Michael stole Calum away from Ashton’s embrace a few hours later, joking around when Ashton’s back cracked as he stood up. They were much more at ease than they’d been earlier that morning and Calum wondered if Ashton had talked to Michael, made even the slightest of amends for whatever happened between him and Luke.

“Do you remember back in year nine when we went to PEEC and I fell in the lake?” Michael sat down on the floor where Ashton had been not moments before. He picked Calum’s hand up from his lap and played with his fingers.

Calum remembered the trip like it was yesterday. He’d sat next to Luke on the way up, thankful to have a friend with a last name close to his own. Michael had plenty of other friends spread out across the four bus loads but Calum wasn’t quite as friendly with them and preferred Luke’s music playlists and sense of humor.

That’d been a year after Michael had finally accepted Luke into their tiny social circle and stopped threatening to beat the poor boy up whenever he attempted to talk to Calum. They, along with three other boys, were staying in a cabin together for three days in the middle of the chilly forest. Calum had pleaded with Michael for months before the money was due to go and finally the older boy relented and asked his parents to sign the permission slip and write a check.

Michael hadn’t warmed up to the idea of trekking through mud and possible deer poop despite Calum’s many attempts at bringing him to the park to play football or throw a few balls back and forth. Michael packed junk food, enough to last him a good week, and jeans, despite his parents urging him to bring sweatpants and sweatshirts.

He’d fallen in the lake half an hour into the hike and Calum had given up his sweatshirt to the leader to dress Michael in until they made it back to the campground. Michael kept the sweatshirt, sometimes he still wore it when they were in cold cities or buried under a blanket or two in Michael’s basement watching movies.

“I liked you, a lot.” Michael scratched the back of his neck with his free hand, smiling sheepishly. His nose was pink as were his cheeks and Calum was enamored.

There was the obvious stage of attraction, Calum knew that but never took into thought how much more there could’ve been. He regretted not knowing Michael’s true feelings prior to their incidental marriage, it felt shallow and wrong to just now learn of a past crush.

“Do you love me?” Calum asked. Michael’s fingers never paused from rubbing over Calum’s knuckles despite the question thrown at him. It sounded like a reasonable question, decent to ask even until the words actually spilled from his mouth. His cheeks flushed hotly and he had an urge to pull away, wipe away the remnants of a stupid question before Michael had the chance to process and reply.

He didn’t know what to expect. A careful yes would’ve been heartwarming and nice, terrifying too but definitely a plus in Calum’s eyes, while a no, as gentle as one could say it, would be nothing more than heartbreak and possible relief. He was torn between wanting both despite knowing it was unhealthy and terrible to want something so pure and at the same time to despise being given something so precious.

“I don’t know.” Michael didn’t sound too sure of himself as he spoke. Relief spread through Calum’s body and he let himself grip Michael’s hand tightly, soothing the boys clear uncertainty. “Do you love me?” It came back, twice as strong as when Calum had uttered the question, only this time in Michael’s questioning tone.

He felt vulnerable, not wanting to hand off the same line Michael had delivered him. They were classifying feelings and caresses and Calum felt smothered.

“I’d like to say I do.”

Michael’s fingers tightened and he choked out a breath. “Do you mean that?”

He couldn’t lie to Michael, feed him a line and let him bathe in falsification while he watched on. “I think so.” Michael smiled and looked down at their hands, thumb moving again. His heart was swollen and he was scared.

“I bought you a ring.” Michael shifted forward and pulled a small box out of his shorts pocket. He smiled again, cheeks reddening.

Calum liked Michael like this, at ease and flustered. It was different than many saw him and Calum felt special, being one of the few that saw Michael’s flaws and weaknesses, goofy faces and internal battles. He was there through it all and the fact that he could bring it all about had his stomach curling nervously.

“It’s not much,” Michael shrugged and opened the box. The ring was gold, slim and plain much like something Calum would wear. It wasn’t engraved but Calum’s heart fluttered at the sight alone. It was a clarification without words that this was okay to Michael, the marriage, as sudden and surprising as it was, they would take it with a grain of salt.

He pulled it out and took Calum’s left hand. “I would’ve given it to you last night had I known we were going to get married, or even had one handy.” He teased as he slipped it over Calum’s ring finger. It sat, bright and new, on Calum’s hand, a token he couldn’t name. He pulled another box out, the same size and handed it to Calum. It was Michael’s ring, identical to the one on his own finger. It was cool and light between his fingers before he slid it on Michael’s pale hand.

“It’s official, then?” Calum asked. He met Michael’s gaze, smiling softly when the older boy nodded. He felt giddy, brushing off the eventual responsibility that would be thrown on them by their parents and management when all came to light. The calls would start soon if they hadn’t already. Calum wasn’t ready to talk to his parents, Mali had been support enough and while he could have used the extra addition of affection, he wanted to wait.

Michael stood up. “I think we consummated the marriage last night.” He waggled his eyebrows at Calum jokingly. Calum grinned and let himself be escorted from the room. He didn’t like it as much as Michael’s, it didn’t feel homey and lived in.

Luke was on the couch, laptop on the coffee table and his email up. Calum caught the tab header of flights but said nothing. Luke didn’t run from his issues usually and it wasn’t his place to call the boy out. He smiled up at Calum and Michael when they crossed in front of the TV, eyes darting down to their hands.

“Well, I guess as best man I should congratulate you two morons.” He stood up and hugged Michael tightly before moving to Calum. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, not like usual. He closed his laptop and sat back down on the couch. A serious expression overtook his features. “How do you plan on dropping this bombshell?”

That wasn’t something Calum had thought about and from the looks of it neither had Michael. They’d ended the tour three days ago as single men without a care in the world and had woken up married to more than just the music.

“We’ll take it as it goes.” Calum finally said, nodding towards Michael who smiled. Luke shook his head and stood up, picking the laptop up from the table with a smile. He met Calum’s gaze and had the gall to look sad.

“I’m flying to Los Angeles tomorrow.”

Michael sighed, rubbing his forehead and Calum nodded. There was no use pestering Luke about this, he’d made up his mind and it wouldn't be right to argue or talk him out of it. Luke disappeared into the kitchen and a few minutes later his footsteps could be heard going up the stairs.

“Everything happens for a reason.” Michael said tiredly. He sat down on the couch and took Calum’s hand in his own. “I need a nap.” Calum agreed and they went upstairs, ignoring the sound of Luke scuffling about packing up his bags. He knew Ashton would have something to say about Luke’s sudden departure but didn’t feel like being the bearer of bad news.

Calum sat down on the bed and Michael climbed on top of him, pushing him onto his back. He climbed from Calum’s lap and locked the door before moving to his previous position and meeting Calum’s lips with his own. Calum touched Michael’s hips, pushing his hands under the older boys shirt and caressed his sides.

“You’re wonderful.” Calum said when Michael moved down to kiss his neck. His voice came out a little breathless and he squirmed beneath Michael’s body. Michael pulled back, tugging his shirt off and tossing it to the ground.

Calum’s disappeared a few minutes later and his hair became messy as Michael carded his fingers through it, mouth meeting Calum’s hungrily. He wrapped his legs around Michael’s hips, digging his shoe clad feet hard into Michael’s ass and rolling his hips up the best he could. Michael broke away first, lips swollen and pink, and wet with saliva. He quirked an eyebrow at Calum and thrusted his hips down hard. Calum groaned, head tipping back as Michael’s lips attached to his throat again, mouthing hungrily but never marking.

Too soon, Michael was untangling Calum’s legs from his lean body and rolling the boy over onto his stomach. His pants ended up on the floor, boxers following before his legs were pushed apart. It was a struggle to keep himself upright on his elbows and not bury his face into the blankets and whimper.

Michael’s tongue ran the length of his back and Calum squirmed, grinding his hips down into the bed. His cock twitched and he whined. “Michael.” His cheeks were spread and Michael’s hot breath met his hole seconds before his tongue did.

There was nothing better than Michael’s tongue working its way into his body. He licked, tongue flat and hot, over Calum’s hole, hands on his hips to keep him from bucking up in want. Calum cried out, fisting the blankets in his hands and dropping his chest to the bed in a feeble attempt to push his ass up higher. Michael’s fingers soon joined his tongue, spreading Calum wide as he licked in, humming pleasurably and tormenting another sweet sound from Calum’s mouth

Calum gasped, two fingers spreading him open and Michael’s tongue diving in after. The hard pressure on his hips relented and he soon bucked his lower half up, meeting Michael’s mouth and hands.

“Calum,” Michael moaned, kissing his hole before pulling his fingers out. He missed the touch, Michael’s warmth inside of him, opening him. The older boy was quiet as he shed his pants, smiling at Calum when the younger turned to look at him. He wondered if his eyes held pleas to be fucked and assumed so when Michael scrounged through the nightstand looking for lube.

He struggled to not grind down against the bed as he watched Michael pop the cap of the bottle open and slick his hand up. Michael stroked himself quickly, already sporting an almost fully erect cock, and pulled Calum down the bed. He tapped his cock against Calum’s cheeks before pushing in between them, brushing over Calum’s hole gently.

“Please,” Calum squeezed the blankets tightly and dropped his face into the bedspread. He sucked in a hard breath as Michael pushed in, pulsing heat stretching him further than his fingers had. His hips ground down hard, an automatic response to being filled so nicely. He wanted to come, wanted Michael to fuck him and mark him up.

A shallow thrust and Calum reared back, ass flush to Michael’s groin. He choked on a noise, a garbled up plea for more. Michael grunted and his hands left Calum’s hips as his body draped down over Calum’s, covering him up as he began to move. He interlaced their fingers and Calum cried out again and Michael brushed over the thick bundle of nerves deep in him.

His eyes drooped, heavy and fighting against the pleasure Michael brought him. With every thrust Calum bit harder into his lower lip, tasting blood and feeling fire in his veins. He wanted more, to experience this every day, to wake up with Michael touching him, brushing the hair out of his face or kissing his nose and telling him to go back to sleep.

“Oh my g-god!” Calum rocked his hips back as Michael plowed forward. They were out of sync and Calum’s body was a live wire. Every brush of Michael’s groin to his ass lit up stars behind his eyes until he came, crying out a muffled call of Michael’s name and going lazy beneath him. He tightened his fingers around Michael’s and rocked his hips to and fro against Michael, striving to drive him over the edge.

 _"Fuck."_   Michael spilled into him with a grunt, body still thrusting forward. He emptied himself into the younger boy, kissing at his back softly and straining to keep from dropping his weight onto Calum completely. Calum breathed out hard, eyes shut tightly and fingers gripping Michael’s hard.

“Don’t you dare,” Calum said, voice hard and edgy. He bit his tongue as Michael pulled out but wouldn’t let him move much farther. Naked cuddles consisted of Michael collapsing on top of Calum completely and smothering him into the bed.

Marriage wasn’t allowed to change that.

~~~

_It’s late April and Calum can’t sleep. They’re about to tour again, this time headlining around the  world with Hey Violet opening. Calum’s become friendly with Miranda and Nia, who are just as excited to start the tour. They facetime sometimes, usually in the early morning when Calum’s just woken up and his hair’s a mess of curls and snarls._

_He’s going to sleep on the plane, there’s no doubt about it and if he’s lucky enough to sit by Michael, he can probably coax the older boy into folding the arm rest up and letting him sleep on his arm. He wishes Michael was next to him now, in his bed, holding his hand and promising that this tour’s going to be the best yet._

_“Cal?” Mali sticks her head in through his open door. It’s well after two in the morning and he can see the tear tracks on her cheeks. She’s always emotional when he leaves, claims ‘it’s hard to watch my little brother leave us all behind and follow his dreams’ and Calum knows she’s not bitter, she’s proud but like any good sister; she’s worried._

_“Mal,” He shifts over as she slips into the room, shutting the door behind her. She’s always been quiet, like a mouse, when she snuck out of the house and this time was no different as she crawled into his bed and hugged his side. She sniffled a few times and pinched his hip, choking on a giggle as Calum petted her hair._

_“Be careful, okay?”_

_There’s too much worry in her tone that Calum can do nothing more than hum. It feels like a soft breach of a breaking point but he doesn’t know what for. “I always am,” He says instead of questioning her. There’s no reason to put doubts into her mind about him flying across the world in a few hours.  Her hand finds his and squeezes tightly, interlacing their fingers like they did when they’d go for walks with their mum to the park and were too young to run alone. “I’m with the band.” It sounds like ‘I’m with Michael’ to Calum and he knows Mali picks up on it. She was the second person who knew about the addition to their friendship, even ahead of Luke and Ashton who still whined about it to this day._

_“I know.”_

_Calum kisses the top of her head and rubs her arm. “You need to get some sleep, Mal.” He knows she’s going to repeat the words back to him, probably call him out in the morning when he’s droopy eyed and snoring into his cereal, too. Mali hums but agrees and climbs from his bed, tucking the covers in around his body as she went._

_“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She repeated that every time he went on tour, like a parting gift. It was their mantra that Calum used to say when she’d sneak out to parties or raves. She kissed his cheek and then pinched in before cracking the door and slipping back out, barefeet pattering on the hardwood flooring of the hallway._

_“You know I wouldn’t.” His words follow her fading footsteps but it doesn’t matter. He rolls onto his side and faces the window, trying to find a comfortable position. The last night home is always the hardest. He doesn’t want to leave his bed, or his room, the comfort of his house and family, and the autumn air behind. Packing it up in a bottle and bringing it along like a keepsake always sounds like a plan but Calum can never find a bottle big enough to hold everything he treasures dearly._

_Calum hears Michael’s keys before he hears the soft steps of Michael's feet. They’d given Michael a set in year ten when he moved in for two weeks just for the hell of it and he’d kept them, not that anyone asked for the set back. Michael was just as much part of the family as the rest of them._

_His door opens and closes, and the bed dips as Michael sinks in behind him. “Cal?”_

_“Michael,” Calum says softly, rolling over to look at his bandmate. Michael’s in pajamas and his feet are bare. It wouldn’t be the first time he hiked the distance between their houses barefoot and it wouldn’t be the last. “What’s wrong?” He asks, touching Michael’s cheek softly._

_Michael leans into his touch, eyes slipping shut. He looks exhausted, worn down from the constant days full of promotion for the upcoming tour and camping out in the studio to finish the new album. Calum pulls his blankets up and tucks them in around Michael, curling in closer and taking the older boys hands in his own._

_“Mikey?”_

_That draws a soft sigh from Michael. “I’m so tired.” Calum knows Michael doesn’t mean physically and his heart aches at how heavy Michael must feel, how weighed down and languid he is. “I just - I’m so ready to be finished and to hide away.”_

_The colored blonde hair Michael sported was dull in the light from Calum’s nightstand. He looks washed out, exposed and desperate to be filled with life. He is a force to be reckoned with, at his best or not, and Calum idolizes his best friend despite his many faults and flaws. Michael leans forward, dropping his forehead onto Calum’s shoulder and sniffling._

_“It’s so quiet.” Michael says, nothing more than a hushed whisper now. He isn’t falling asleep, he’s tiring out, probably fed up with being asked how he feels and if he’s doing okay. Calum wraps his arms around Michael’s shoulders and pulls him closer until there’s no such thing as a personal bubble and Calum can breath in the fresh scent of Michael’s mum’s perfume. “I’m sitting in a room full of people and it’s like I’m alone.”_

_Calum doesn’t know what to say. He can do nothing more than hold Michael while he lets it out, explains his feelings and tears himself apart._

_“Don’t leave me.” Michael pleads, meeting Calum’s eyes for the first time. He’s so empty and vulnerable, Calum wants nothing more than to patch him back up and tie him up in bubble wrap._

_They stay up until the sun is filtering over the horizon, silence falling over the room. Calum wonders if Michael’s fallen asleep until he hears a loud sigh and Michael rolls over to look at him. They’ve changed positions so many times throughout the night, neither able to find comfort in staying still._

_Calum’s mum isn’t surprised to see Michael stumble into the kitchen after Calum and steal a piece of Mali’s toast before slouching down in a seat next to Calum’s dad. She greets him and asks where his shoe’s were._

_“Left them at home.” Michael murmurs, cheeks flushing. He hears her tut and his gaze flickers to Calum, who’s smiling at him._

_“Let him be, Joy.” Calum’s dad laughs, patting Michael’s arm soothingly. He reads into Michael much more than anyone else ever had, besides Calum himself. “Shoes are for the weak.”_

_Calum laughs and Michael rests his head on Calum’s shoulder, smiling_. 

_~~~_

Michael went out twenty minutes after Luke’s left for the airport. Ashton and Luke had fought, and Calum thought Ashton was going to cry. He wouldn’t have been all that surprised. Tension was running high and Michael needed out. He’d tugged Calum’s rain boots on and kissed him on the cheek before disappearing out into the rainy night.

Calum would make a remark about the shoes in the morning. He knew Michael would be home later that evening and didn’t worry. Michael sometimes, despite claiming to hate the outdoors, walked his problems off and Calum liked that he’d found an outlet for all of the stress.

He curled up on the couch with a mug of hot tea and watched Ashton storm around the house. He was infuriated, curses spewing from his lips as he packed his bags up. Calum tried to talk Ashton out of following after Luke, pleading that Luke needed time to be alone. Ashton had shaken his head, angrily yelling that Luke needed to confront his issues rather than run and hide. It was difficult being friends with hardheads but Calum dealt with three of the worst and somehow was surviving.

“Ashton,” Calum tried, setting the mug on the table and standing up. Ashton had gone from mad to scared to mad again before settling on crying. He wasn’t the strongest member emotionally and sometimes needed to be babied - although he’d never ask outright for the attention.

They’d had a _thing,_  Luke and Ashton. It hadn’t been big or that serious but Michael had attempted to instruct docile Luke through the inner workings of seducing an older boy. They’d been young and foolish, and Luke was scared. It’d ended as quickly as it’d started and everything seemed to blow over with ease - albeit the longing gazes the two would share without realizing.

Calum hadn’t put much thought into it. They had acted like it was nothing and he couldn’t jump in and start questioning everything. But with Ashton crying on his shoulder, it was like they were about to board their first plane to London all over again.

“I don’t remember what happened.” Ashton choked out, wiping his eyes with his arm. His face was red and wet. He understood what it was like to not remember, only his and Michael’s mishap went viral before they’d even found out what they’d done. “Like, it’s all bits and pieces. I don’t know, Luke asked me to hit him and he kept touching me. I couldn’t say no.”

“Luke’s scared,” Calum rubbed Ashton’s knee and pushed his curls back. He couldn’t defend Luke that much, only enough to hopefully stop Ashton from chasing after him. It wasn’t likely Ashton would listen. Calum knew how hardheaded his bandmates could be - especially the drummer.

The fatherly figure of the band was crumbling and Calum was helpless. Florida was officially marked off as Calum’s least favorite state and a mental note to never go back was scratched down.

Ashton shook his head, wiping his cheeks off. “He shouldn’t be alone.” Calum wanted to argue the fact that Luke left alone and hadn’t asked for anyone’s company because he wanted time to himself. Pushing that tidbit of information onto Ashton would result in an argument and he’d leave West Palm Beach fighting with the whole band.

Calum rubbed Ashton’s back and kept his thoughts as such.

“I have to go finish packing.” Ashton stood up slowly, as if afraid to lose the comfort Calum handed out generously. The rhythm section rarely had any falling outs and Calum was looking to keep it that way. He let Ashton brush past him and tucked the blanket back around his feet silently.

After a while, the sound of Ashton pacing around the second floor grew to be too much and Calum found himself hunched over the kitchen table listening to the microwave countdown to zero as his tea reheated.

Three days in a house without supervision was nothing like London with Luke’s mum. They’d stayed out of trouble under Liz’s careful eye and Calum missed the lack of responsibility he’d had before. Everything was different and the band took the newfound world of responsibility hard.

They were falling apart and building new bridges at the same time.

He struggled, much more than he’d expected to and there was no one there to guide him back on track. A gold wedding band sat at the base of his ring finger and his best friend had the twin. His judgment’s weren’t always the brightest but they were future plans pushed forward a few years. Calum never planned on getting married, and maybe that was why he and Michael promised themselves that sliver of hope all of those years ago.

It was much simpler at ten to give himself over to his best friend, there were no consequences and no regrets. They were empty promises, now suddenly full of unsaid words and unmatched feelings.

“I don’t love you.” Calum voiced his thoughts to the kitchen wall and sank down in the seat. It sounded bitter rolling off of his tongue, and had the sharp bite of a lie. He repeated the action, hoping that eventually it would stick and he’d believe it himself.

Michael had never brought feelings into play and Calum was unsure about being the one to do so. He was weak and petulant when cornered, much like a large dog surrounded by chihuahuas. That didn’t stop the uneasy feeling that settled low in his stomach every time he attempted to spill out a lie.

 _"I don't love you."_  It sounded no better than fifth or sixth time he spit it out.

~~~

It was well after seven when Michael closed the front door behind him. He had a pizza box in hand and a cat in the either.

“Michael.” Calum shifted on the chair, back aching from the slouched position he’d fallen into. His mug was still in the microwave, probably lukewarm if not cool and Calum realized he’d never had any intention of finishing the tea. It was an excuse to move around and not play with loose strings the blanket until it fell to tatters.

“I brought company!” The heavy thunk of Calum’s new rain boots hitting the ground sounded. Michael shook his head, spraying water droplets across the couch and beaming at Calum. “You look cozy.”

The cat was slim, tan and underfed. It had a scar on it’s left cheek, blotchy and protruding from its otherwise smooth skin and covered sparsely in fur. Michael held it close to his chest and the cat seemed content nuzzling into the boy.

“Where did you find her?” Calum stood from his seat, back cracking at the sudden twist. He shuffled forward, careful with his footing as to not step on the blanket and end up a mess on the floor - the last thing he needed was a broken ankle.

“Him.” Michael corrected. He grinned and placed the pizza on the living room coffee table before grabbing Calum’s waist and pulling him in for a kiss. It was unexpected and Calum nearly tripped over his feet at Michael’s sudden attack.

The cat purred, nuzzling against Calum’s stomach.

“His name is Mercury.” He opened the pizza box and set the cat down on the couch. It blinked sleepily before stretching out across a cushion, feet pressed against one of the pillows. Michael pulled his jacket off, shaking the water off of it before tossing it to the ground. He was always irresponsible and Calum hated going behind and cleaning up after him.

Calum sat on the couch, furthest from Mercury, and curled his feet up under his legs. Michael went into the kitchen to wash his hands, bringing back two bottles of water and a handful of napkins. He folded two slices together hungrily.

“Ashton’s leaving.”

Michael nodded. “Chasing Luke down.” It wasn’t a secret, clearly, but Calum felt bitter knowing Michael knew just as much, if not more, than he did. Ashton moved around upstairs again, a small relapse that reminded Calum just why he moved into the kitchen.

The band was splitting up yet again and Calum was left to contemplate the situation he and Michael had drug themselves into.

“He’s packing?” Michael bit into his pizza slices, looking over at Calum as he sat down. Mercury sat up, paws stretched out again, and purred before shifting closer to the blonde boy and nuzzling up against his thigh.

They had no cat food in the house and Michael definitely wasn’t smart enough to pick up a bag on his way home. Calum worried about what they would feed the feline until the next morning when he could make a trip to the pet store.

Calum nodded, picking up his own slice. Mercury turned to look at him. The cat was in desperate need of a bath - and Calum knew Michael would let the cat sleep with them tonight. His stomach churned and suddenly his pizza no longer looked appetizing. Sleeping in a bed with Michael was a given, having sex with Michael was a given, but now they each had a band on their ring fingers and Calum had no idea what that meant for their previous and future interactions.

“I brought a movie back.” Michael had finished his pizza and cracked open a bottle of water. He licked over his lips and Calum struggled to not follow his tongue. He swallowed harshly, taking a bite of pizza. He knew if he spoke, his words would either come out jumbled or in a pathetic squeak that Michael would tease him over for ages.

It was a b-lister, probably hadn’t survived theaters for long if it had even made it that far. Calum appreciated the thought anyway. He struggled to finish the pizza, knowing fully well Michael would question his lack of appetite if he failed to finish the slice.

“Nothing better to make out with than Gore and Guts.” Michael wiped his hands on a napkin and opened the movie box. He fumbled around with the DVD player before figuring out how the older box worked.

Watching Michael play around with the DVD’s reminded Calum of early morning X-Box gaming that bled into the night and early morning, days before they left for their second tour. They’d been a mess then, still trying to hide their hookups and squeeze into the armchair in Michael’s basement to watch reruns of black and white TV shows.

“Your mum is going to kill you.” Calum wiped his own greasy fingers on a napkin and settled back against the couch. Mercury had disappeared into the kitchen and Calum wasn’t sure if rescuing the cat from the darkroom would be better than Ashton stumbling in and finding the feline prancing around or filling up a plastic water bowl and letting Mercury have free range. Michael hummed in response, busy trying to fix the now blue screen.

Finally, Michael was able to figure out the correct channel and the main menu of the movie popped up on the screen. He settled in beside Calum and closed the pizza box. There was over half a pie left and Calum hadn’t even opened his water.

“You good?” Michael’s fingers brushed Calums softly as he questioned the younger boy. His fingertips were cold - something Calum has made fun of Michael for, for ages. He looked at Calum, leaning in closely as he waited for an answer.

Calum nodded, gaze dropping to his lips. It wasn’t his fault, Michael’s mouth was sinful, always bright red, and wet and soft against Calum’s. He couldn’t be held accountable for looking, or even touching. He looked away, huffing in response. “I am, are you?” He knew his response was weak, much like his tone, but Michael didn’t bother opening the discussion further.

There was a bang upstairs and Mercury bolted into the room, nearly skidding into the coffee table in his haste. Michael let the cat settle on his lap before returning to the conversation. “Yeah, I’m good.” He licked his lips and looked at the TV.

Calum swallowed hard, copying Michael’s movements. They felt alien to him and his palms were sweaty as he clenched them beneath the blankets. “This movie kind of sucks.” His insides felt jumbled up and he wanted nothing more than to taste Michael’s lips.

“I bought it so we could make out.”

~~~

_They’re home for a week when Michael’s mum calls Calum and asks him to take Michael out. He’s moping, much like he usually does when they take a break mid-tour, and hasn’t left the basement in thirty hours. Calum concedes and promises to not bring him home for the day, much to Karen’s pleasure._

_Calum know’s she worries about her son. He’s struggling, more so than usual and it’s painful to watch. It’s good they’re home, have time off to relax at home with their families before setting out on the second leg of the tour._

_Michael and Luke need it the most._

_They’re unbalanced and in desperate need of attention. It’s not a bad thing, just a slight nuisance that sends them home every few months to roll around with their thumbs up their asses until Luke - who seems to never want to leave - decides his mum’s worked on his last nerve and needs to escape back to reality._

_Michael’s hard to drag away and Calum usually leaves the job to Ashton, who has a way with words and promises. He always pulls Michael out of his house, half slung on his back and blubbering on about how he couldn’t sleep and his video game skills are rusty. Calum knows it’s a ploy to have management buy them gaming systems, which they already have a decent collection of on the bus, and leave Michael with them, alone._

_Calum doesn’t know how to drive and his parents are at work. They used to take off whenever he came home, but now he’s left alone in the house for a solid eight hours a day - albeit Mali sometimes flies in when he’s home. He can’t call Ashton, and Luke’s probably at another family party playing with all of his cousins. Michael’s house isn’t that far away, and if Calum weren’t as rusty he’d definitely skateboard over._

_Chances are, though. that he’ll fall in the middle of the street or crash into a parked car and end up in the hospital under a mess of plaster and gauze. He walks instead, hood up and blue jeans on. Michael always compliments his thighs when he’s wearing blue jeans, more so than the skin tight one’s he stole from Luke many moons ago and squeezes himself into._

_Michael’s dad is out front, already home from work and fixing shrubs. He’s pale and has knobby knees, much like Michael, and the same toothy grin. He greets Calum with a slap to his back. “Door’s unlocked.” Daryl shakes his head, looking over to the house. “He hasn’t been outside since he came home.”_

_That doesn’t come as a surprise to Calum. He’s grown up with Michael, watched his best friend hide away with backlit screens and game controls. Calum promises Daryl that Michael won’t be home for the rest of the day, maybe night, too, just like he’d promised Karen. They’ll stay out all night if that’s what it takes to keep Michael away from his computer._

_The house smells like laundry detergent and air freshener. Karen was busy in the kitchen, but kissed Calum on the cheek before ushering him down the basement steps. For the first time ever it didn’t smell like old socks and boy - which Calum narrowed down to Karen housecleaning while they toured._

_Michael’s sprawled out on the arm chair, legs thrown haphazardly over the armrest and his head hanging against his chest. This is probably one of the first times Michael’s slept since coming home and Calum almost feels bad about bothering him._

_“Mikey?” Calum makes his way down the last few steps and over to the sleeping boy. His roots are beginning to show, dark blonde and messy against the red color he’d bled into the strands earlier that month._

_Michael stirs, head bouncing up as he blinks. He opens his mouth and yawns, eyebrows falling together in the middle when his gaze settles on Calum. In a quick movement his feet are on the floor and he’s rolling his shoulders, reaching a hand out to Calum. “Hey,” His voice is full of sleep and another yawn escapes._

_Calum sits down on the floor and rests his hand on Michael’s knee. Michael’s gaze follows his hand and he licks his lips before looking back up at Calum. “We’re going out.” He doesn’t miss the way Michael leans forward, or how his gaze drops down to Calum’s lips._

_“Where?”_

_Neither move to get up._

_He doesn’t know where they’re going to go, just that Michael needs to wander around outside for a few good hours. Calum inches his hand up Michael’s thigh. “Just out.” He’s blatantly teasing and knows Michael will call him out on it at one point._

_“Alright.” Michael touches Calum’s hand. “Did my mum call you?”_

_There’s no point beating around the bush. Michael knows Karen called him, it’s in his eyes._

_“You haven’t moved from down here.” Calum turns his hand over and laces his with Michael’s. A soft hum of agreement rumbles from deep in Michael’s chest as he nods. “That’s not good.” It comes out as a whisper and Michael’s eyes widen. “You haven’t even bothered to come see me.”_

_Calum knows how to push Michael’s buttons fairly well. He lets Michael contemplate his next words as he pulls his hand from the older boys and stands up. Michael follows suit, stretching again. His shirt rides up and Calum can see the soft dirty blonde hair trailing up his stomach._

_“Don’t really wanna go out.” Michael rubs the back of his head, grinning sheepishly. He steps around Calum and starts up the stairs, computer screen still lit up with a paused game and a half empty bag of chips on the hassick._

_~~~_

“Come shower with me.” Michael stroked behind Mercury’s ears, the cat already situated on his lap. Calum shook his head, reaching to cover up his knee with the blanket. The movie was almost over and Calum was thankful. “Then come make out with me.”

In a swift movement, Michael was almost half on top of Calum, their thighs pressed together and Mercury’s paw on Calum’s leg. He looked over at Michael, swallowing hard.

“You’re greedy.”

“I like your mouth.” Came Michael’s reply. He patted the couch and Mercury bounced over, knocking the pillow to the side as he bound up the arm and onto the back of the couch. Michael leaned in and kissed the corner of Calum’s mouth, humming.

Calum’s cheeks flushed as he leaned forward, nose brushing Michael’s as their lips met. Michael’s arms moved around his waist eagerly, tugging Calum further onto his lap and licking his lips in an attempt to coax them open. Calum’s head spun, body hot and fingers straining to keep from reaching up and tugging at Michael’s long blonde strands.

“We’re married.” Michael clicked his tongue, having pulled back from Calum’s mouth. He grinned. “God, that’s insane.”

Calum couldn’t help but agree. He felt light, like a feather floating down to the ground or a puffy cloud in the sky. It was unusual but he liked it, much more than he’d first realized. Michael brought the feeling about, too, with every soft touch or lingering kiss, it was like a disease but Calum was content coming down with it.

“I want to make love to you.” Michael murmured the words, looking at his lap shyly. He pressed his palm to Calum’s thigh, rubbing. “Will you let me?”

The words sat heavy on Calum’s heart, feeling even worse on his tongue. He’d sat, for hours, repeating the same sentence over and over in hopes of retaining it as an automatic response. _'I don't love you.'_  It didn’t sound right in his head, let alone on the tip of his tongue. “You don’t love me.” Calum said instead, swallowing the harsh words he never wanted to speak.

Michael nodded, eyes catching Calum’s. “I don’t,” He agreed. “But I want to make you mine.”

~~~

 

Michael fed Mercury a bowl of fried chicken and another of water before sneaking the cat upstairs, and locking him in Calum’s empty room with the water bowl. Calum and Michael rolled out thick wads of newspaper and prayed Mercury would use them rather than the bed or clean carpet when nature called.

“Shower with me.” Michael echoed his plea from before as he lead Calum into their room. Calum shook his head, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching Michael rifle through their bags for clean clothes.

Ashton’s room was quiet and Calum suspected he’d already went to bed, probably set an alarm for early in the morning so he wouldn’t miss his flight to Los Angeles. Calum was nervous for what Ashton would find when he arrived.

“After.” Calum attempted to pull Michael over by a loop on his jeans only for the older boy to dodge his nimble fingers with a grin. Calum groaned, reaching out again and shifting further onto the bed. “Mikey.”

“Cally.” Michael mimicked, eyebrow raising as he teased. With a sigh, he dropped the clothes he’d pulled out on the floor and pushed Calum onto his back, moving to straddle his waist. “You’re needy.” He touched the younger boys face softly, brushing the back of his hand down Calum’s cheek.

Calum frowned, shifting his legs up. “As per usual.” He sat up and kissed Michael. “Now keep your promise and do me.” He fumbled over the words, knowing very well his cheeks were heating and Michael had taken note. At Michael’s questioning brow Calum reiterated the plea. “Make love to me.” It tasted weird, like commitment and something Calum couldn’t put his finger on, as it fell from his lips.

He hummed as Michael kissed his jaw, nipping at the sharp bone. “You’re so beautiful.” Michael grinned against his skin and dipped his fingers under the hem of Calum’s shirt, pushing it up his torso slowly. Calum lifted his back from the bed and let Michael slip the shirt off over his head before pulling the older boy down into a kiss.

It felt the same as before, a bit slower but with the same amount of force and hunger that Calum looked forward to whenever Michael’s mouth met his. Michael lost his shirt quickly and Calum threaded his fingers through the blondes unruly hair, tugging at strands as he rolled his hips up, licking into Michael’s mouth.

Michael groaned, fingers already working at the button on Calum’s jeans as he fought to keep his mouth against the younger boys. His sounds sent a spark through Calum and he rolled over, toppling Michael onto his back and clambering onto his waist. He rolled his hips down hard, breath catching in his throat at Michael’s fingers latching onto his nipples and rubbing.

“You’re so fucking -” Michael cut himself off, moving on from Calum’s upper body to the jeans again. He rolled them back over and Calum latched onto him, fighting the movement. They rolled anyway and Michael pulled back, eyebrow quirking teasingly as he pulled at Calum’s jeans. Calum lifted his hips and Michael tugged the denim material down, boxers following moments later.

Cool air hit Calum’s cock and he reached for himself, desperate for friction similar to what Michael’s body had given. Michael folded Calum’s legs up to his chest, biting his lower lip. His eyes raked down Calum’s body and the younger boy shivered under his scrutinizing gaze.

“Stop it, asshole.” Calum mumbled the words miserably, turning his head away. His cheeks flushed and he jerked his hips up, wanting nothing more than for Michael’s fingers to fill him up. “Mike.” It sounded desperate to his own ears.

Michael let out a breath, deep and slow. He released Calum’s legs and shook his head. “We’re doing this slow.” Calum squirmed, grabbing Michael’s arm and holding tightly. Michael touched his cheek, smiling. “Roll over for me.”

~~~

Ashton left an empty, washed bowl in the sink and a note on the fridge.

 

_gone to LA to find Luke._

_x Ash_

_P.S. you guys are REALLY loud, have some consideration!_

_P.P.S. there is a cat in Calum’s room, it tried to run out so please bring my boots with you_

 

“You need to go shopping for Mercury.” Calum said, flipping an egg from the pan to a plate. He was a horrible cook, almost as bad as Luke but thankfully much better than Michael. Ashton was their main chef - if that word even fit the status - and while his range of different meals was limited, he did a damn good job with the foods he _could_  cook. Now, with Ashton either in an airport or already in the sky, Calum was forced to cook or else starve.

Michael slouched against the chair, naked and pleased. He was glowing, much like he usually did after sex, and seeing as Ashton and Luke were no longer in the house to control the ‘no nakedness’ rule, Michael was running around with his dick out. “Come with me.” Michael pleaded with a pout. He was still half asleep, and miserable, as usual when he was woken up.

Calum cracked another egg on the skillet and sprinkled salt on top. “You’re so clingy.” He teased, turning to grin at Michael. The boy had sat in the chair and was leaning on the table, playing with the fork in front of him.

“You’re my husband.” Michael said. “I’m allowed to cling.”

He had a point, much to Calum chagrin and the blush that settled over his face was proof enough. The word was still strange to hear, _'husband'_ and Calum wondered if he’d ever get used to it. He liked the way Michael said it, used it against him teasingly and claimed Calum as his own.

“Get the bacon from the oven, please.” Calum brushed Michael’s previous remark off and continued with the eggs. He already had a bowl put aside for his own scrambled eggs that Michael would sneak bits of and three pieces of bread in the toaster waiting to be put down. Michael brushed by him, pulling the oven mitts from the hook on the wall and pinched his ass. “Paws off, Clifford.”

Michael laughed and pulled the hot pan from the oven, humming contentedly. “Smells good.” He carefully flipped the pieces onto a plate and dropped the pan in the sink. “Speaking of,” Michael kissed Calum’s shoulder. “Is it Clifford or Hood now?”

The question startled Calum, who hadn’t thought about the decision yet, the mere concept hadn’t even passed through his thoughts. He looked over at Michael. “Dude, I don’t know.” Michael laughed again, resting his head on Calum’s shoulder.

“We have time.”

~~~

They showered despite standing under the spray not eight hours before - this time Michael wasn’t holding Calum up. The towels weren’t soaked and clothes no longer litter the floor. Calum missed Luke and his dirty tendencies.

“Should we take Mercury with us?” Michael asked, touching Calum’s side as he reached for the shampoo. His hair hung in his eyes and water dribbled over his lips. He was a wet dream that Calum could breath in, touch, and relish being near. Michael had continued to pester Calum about the two of them shopping for Mercury rather than just the older boy out wandering the streets in broad daylight, and Calum finally relented.

“No.” Calum wasn’t bitter, just tired and anxious to be out where fans would spot them. He hadn’t been on any social media sites since finding out he and Michael were suddenly married, and knew the lack of explanation from the band would only heighten the fans acuteness when out looking for them. “We’re going to get mobbed.” The band on his ring finger shown brightly when he flipped the last egg out of the pan, like a reminder they were a couple and fans knew.

“We’ll be fine.” Michael argued, leaning against the counter. He pushed his hair back and shifted towards Calum. The younger boy huffed, handing Michael his plate and moving to turn the stove off. He cleaned the skillet of egg remnants before buttering it back up and turning the flame on.

“Go eat.”

Michael hummed, stepping past him but not without slapping his ass again. “So firm, baby. I can’t help myself.” Michael disappeared into the living room with his plate. He backed up into the kitchen and picked the silverware up from the table before grinning sheepishly at Calum and moving back into the living room.

There wasn’t much Calum could do about Michael’s touching. He was always like that, and even more so when Calum and he started hooking up. It was nice to be touched, and Calum enjoyed Michael’s soft grazes and lingering fingers, and the occasional ass slapping that came before Michael pinned him to whatever surface he could and fucked the younger boy. But it wasn’t _fucking_ anymore. It’d turned to making love and Calum had no idea how to feel about that.

He liked the soft touches, how Michael was gentle and pliant when Calum shifted. How they flowed together like water rather than the oily mix they usually were when trying to get off. Michael was soft in general, willing to bend to any need Calum had, or to melt into his touch, and now, marriage - just the word - had Michael bending over backwards and Calum spinning in circles.

“Are you going to scramble your eggs or should I turn the gas off?” Michael asked from the doorway, startling Calum from his thoughts. There was a shit-eating grin on Michael’s face, much like the one he used when he pranked Luke or had just finished kicking someone’s ass on X-Box.

Calum frowned, turning to look at the older boy. “Go eat.” Michael pursed his lips, hiding a teasing smile as he went back to the living room, leaving Calum alone with his thoughts and a sizzling skillet.

~~~

Calum knew, as soon as he’d opened the door, that adventuring around West Palm beach with Michael, a cat and wedding bands on their fingers would be nothing more than a free-for-all for the fans. The heavy black rainboots Michael had stolen for himself the night before were on his feet, a pair of fluffy slipper socks beneath, and one of Michael’s sweatshirts that he’d borrowed before the tour started and kept hidden from Michael’s knowledge.

He’d finally found a pair of his own jeans, although there was always the high chance they were a pair of Luke’s looser ones or even Ashton’s. It didn’t matter, he could still walk and his legs hadn’t gone numb yet.

Michael had attempted to fry up the leftover chicken from the night for Mercury before tugging on a pair of shorts and a ripped shirt. Calum wondered if Michael liked the sticky, humid Floridian air.

“Do you want to drive?” Calum asked, already mapquesting directions to PetSmart on his phone. They’d probably end up lost, again, and straggling around for hours. Mercury brushed past his leg and bounced up onto the couch. Calum mentally noted he’d need to be bathed when they finished shopping.

“Not particularly but I trust you’ll make good judgement on music.”

Calum huffed, knocking hips with the older boy. “Shut up and let’s go.” Michael grinned, pushing past Calum. He rambled on about Mercury needing a bath - which Calum definitely would not be taking part in - and pulled the car keys from a hook.

“You really like those boots.” Michael remarked, eyeing the rubber rain shoes, a cheeky grin on his lips. Calum was quick to remind him of the adventure the boots had taken with Michael the night prior. His teasing earned him Michael’s lips on his neck and his back against the fridge. “You’re absolutely addicting.” Michael mouthed at the flushed skin of Calum’s throat, nipping at fading marks.

“Stop, stop.” Calum breathed the words out, eyelids fluttering shut. He was weak when it came to Michael, very much so. His body lit up at Michael’s touch, whether it be fingers, lips or his cock, Calum came alive like a moth to a flame. They’d never make it out of the house if they kept up with their teasing.

Weakly, Calum pushed Michael off, sucking in hard breaths and clenching his fists miserably. He wanted nothing more than to fold into Michael’s body, lay on the kitchen floor with him in nothing but his underwear and touch the older boy until his needs were sufficed.

“We have to shop for Mercury.” It came out in a rushed breath much to Calum’s annoyance. He straightened his shirt and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. Michael raised an eyebrow but scooped the cat up. Calum could taste the tension in the room, swelling up and sucking him in.

Michael lead the way to the car, throwing careful glances back to Calum - reading much further into the situation than Calum would have liked. “I’ve never fucked you in a car before.” Calum decided he liked how ‘ _making love’_ fell from Michael’s lips much more than ‘ _fucked’._

“Maybe another time.” Calum grimaced at the sticky air, already regretting his undying need to wear tight pants and long sleeves. Michael turned the car on, grinning at the younger boy. Mercury stayed perched on Calum’s lap for the entirety of the ride, occasionally nuzzling against his stomach and purring. Calum was slowly growing attached to the mangy feline Michael’s adopted.

The pet store was large and smelled like dog shampoo. Calum followed Michael through the cat section with a cart. Mercury napped in the basket of the cart on a pillow that would end up being his travel bed as Michael filled the cart with toys and food.

“That was possibly the worst experience I’ve ever had.” Michael said as he pushed the cart through the sliding doors. Calum saw them first, or the flash of the cameras, and suddenly they were surrounded. They’d never been bombarded like that before and  Michael seemed shocked with the attack. He pushed through, grabbing Calum’s hand and tugging him along.

Michael filled the trunk of the car quickly as Calum slid into the front seat with Mercury. He could hear the older boy brushing off questions as he rushed to get in.

“I change my mind.” Michael grimaced, leaning over and pressing his lips to Calum’s.

~~~

Mali flew to Florida two days before Michael and Calum left for LA. She brought a storm with her, and Calum had never been so bitter when trekking after Michael through the airport to his sisters terminal. It had been three months since Calum had seen Mali - albeit FaceTime - and his nerves had begun acting up the second Michael turned the engine off.

“She’s not going to be mad.” Michael soothed, slumping against the seat. His hands were still braced on the wheel, knuckles white from the tight grip. He was just as nervous as Calum.

The younger boy nodded, stomach still uneasy despite knowing Michael was right. Mali was his rock, the structure to his six foot three frame and a shoulder to lean on when life struck a support beam. The worst to expect from Mali was smart remarks that leave both boys flushed and embarrassed.

“Alright.” Calum breathed, meeting Michael’s eyes with his own. He swallowed harshly, anxiety building in the pit of his stomach. They made their way through the airport. It was nearly empty - at four in the morning Calum figured that was understandable - and waited behind the checkpoint.

Michael noticed her first, already waving his arms to pull the older girl’s attention to them. As usual, Mali was a giddy mess, kissing her brothers face like an antsy mother as she berated him for the long dips of time between their video calls.

“And you,” She turned to Michael, pulling him down for the same treatment. His cheeks flushed as Mali clung tight, ruffling his hair and welcoming him to the family. It was endearing to say the least but left Calum’s curled stomach anxious for them to return home to Sydney.

Michael drove home and Calum rested his hand on the older boys thigh. He could feel Mali’s eyes on them, drinking in their interactions and noting the little nudges that she’d break down for Calum later when Michael was asleep or giving them time to talk. Mali talked about the flight, and back home. Their parents had been up in arms when they’d found out about the marriage and Calum’s heart sunk. He’d distanced himself from his parents throughout the tour, even more so when they found out about the marriage. He wasn’t ready to talk about it, not with his parents at least.

“How’re Luke and Ashton?” Mali questioned, settling back against the couch. Mercury was in her lap, freshly bathed and fluffy. Calum assumed Mali had realized Luke and Ashton had already left for LA, if their empty rooms were anything to go by.

“Fighting,” Michael said from the kitchen. They’d put a kettle on for hot chocolate while Mali settled in. There were bags under her eyes, worse than Michael coming off of a break and Calum had attempted to coax her into a hot shower and an empty room. She’d declined, instead curling on the couch and watching the two circle around each other in the kitchen.

Mali didn’t bother replying. She ran her hand down Mercury’s back, attention pinpointed at the feline. Their whole family was dog oriented - which gave no excuses to their lack of one - but Mali had taken a strange liking to Michael’s new pet.

“Your mums want you to come home,” Calum handed Mali her hot chocolate mug before sitting down next to Michael on the loveseat. Their thighs touched and Calum’s fingers twitched to not touch his hand or knee.

“We’ll be home in a few weeks.” Michael said, hands wrapped around the handle of his own mug. Calum leaned over, resting his head on Michael’s shoulder. He didn’t miss the way Mali’s face lit up or the enthralled grin on her lips.

She shook her head. “I mean for another wedding..” Calum looked over at Michael.

He nodded, rubbing Calum’s thigh. “I think that would be good.”

Mali looked to Calum and back to Michael, eyebrows raised. Mercury stretched on her lap, purring.

“I know we’re not thirty,” Michael sat his mug down and took Calum’s from his hands, grasping the heated palms after he’d placed it on the coffee table. He turned, looking at Calum with a sheepish smile. “But we might as well do this right. Marry me sober?”

“You know I’ll always say yes.”

**~~~**

_Calum’s twenty-three, swears he’s already balding - which most definitely isn’t possible - and has a twenty-four year old Michael clinging to his side. He wakes up earlier than Michael more often than not -the older man, and however many blankets they’d piled on the night prior, draped over him. Michael’s hair is brown again, a soft chestnut color - courtesy of Luke’s brilliant mind - and floppy, long like it was when they were young and foolish._

_It’s early still, the sun’s just peeking up over the horizon and filtering in through the sheer curtains over the windows. Mercury and Tootsie haven’t clawed the door to be let in yet and Samantha hasn’t crawled into her uncle's room with the TV remote in hand. It’s mornings like this, quiet and slow, that remind Calum of the loud and rambunctious ways he and the band lived for years on end - pausing only for breaks where Calum would steal his niece from Mali and spoil her rotten with Michael’s help._

_“Go back to sleep.” Michael groans, turning over with a yawn. He hasn’t fully opened his eyes and there are indents on his cheeks from where he’d leaned on the folds of the pillow. His hair was messy, tangled up  and dark against the soft white pillow cases they’d put on two days earlier._

_He touches Calum’s chest, eyes already falling shut again as he mumbles incoherent things. It’s endearing until he rolls into Calum completely and tangles their limbs. Michael’s always been a needy little thing when it came to affection and warmth._

_“Sammy’s going to be in soon.” That meant pancakes and cartoons until one in the afternoon, or they found something else to do. Calum’s words pulled a rise from Michael who groaned and rolled onto his back, fingers and legs still laced with the younger man's. Samantha was two and loved joining in cuddles, especially her uncles._

_“You take care of her.”_

_Calum ruffles Michael’s hair teasingly. “You’re the pancake expert here, not me.” That pulls Michael from his previous dour attitude. He yawns again, dragging his hand through his hair and squinting at Calum._

_“It’s not even, like, nine.” Michael argues, sitting up and stretching. The pale skin of his shoulders is burnt from their days at the beach building sandcastles with Sammy under the scorching sun and freckles danced along down his arms. With a sigh, Michael throws what little covers he has on, off, and slides his feet into the slippers he leaves beside the bed every night._

_Calum laughs, petting his husbands back softly. “She’s going home tonight.” Michael hums and stands up. At twenty-four Michael is just as miserable and crabby as he’d been when they were fifteen. The promise of a child-free house for the next few days was the only reason Michael pulls himself out of bed without a fight, Calum knows that for a fact._

_He rolls over, back to the door as he curls beneath the covers again. Michael moves around quietly before ruffling Calum’s hair and disappearing out of the room. Mornings like these, slow and quiet, are Calum’s favorite. While breakfast is always an ordeal, the few minutes Calum’s given in between Michael starting breakfast and Sammy bouncing on the bed to wake him up, Calum treasures the time he has._

_Tomorrow morning he’ll stay in bed with Michael all day, blow raspberries on his husband’s stomach and kiss him whenever he feels the need - without a nosy three year old squealing in the background._

_She’s tottering around now, dragging her dull yellow blanket Joy had given Mali and Tom to wrap Sammy in when she came home from the hospital, all wide eyed and pink cheeked. Calum can hear her talking, probably running Michael’s ear off - not that Michael minded much, he was infatuated with the baby._

_Calum rolls over onto Michael’s pillow. It smells like his shampoo and crinkles under his cheek. He sits up, arms shaking at the sudden movement. There’s a folded up piece of paper, soft blue indents from where a pen was pressed too hard and bled through._

_Dear Calum,_

 

_Someone keeps honking their horn outside and I'm losing what little patience I have. This is long overdo - me detailing out the moment I realized I liked you more than just a friend._

_I didn't fall in love with you; not one bit. Except maybe I did. You're bittersweet, like a bite of chocolate or that coffee Mali makes that tastes like mud and vanilla._

_In fourth grade you took my goldfish and didn't bat an eyelash when I stole them back, and in fifth you decorated my locker for my birthday and had you r mum make cupcakes. I realized then how big your heart was._

_When I taught you to play guitar I saw how driven and ready to learn you were, and when you came to mine before tour and allowed me to be th e first to ever touch you intimately I realized how much I needed you._

_I won't call it love because four letters shouldn't label how I feel about you. I don't regret our drunken marriage or adopting a cat without discussing it first. I don't regret our weekends with Sammy or the mornings I wake up and you're not beside me anymore._

_I've screamed my adoration to the world far too many times to not mean it. It was too much, we were too young and it happened too fast, but I wouldn’t change anything._

_Come drink your coffee and scold Sammy for playing with her pancakes. We have a reservation with our families tonight at Villa de Roma._

_Happy anniversary,_

_Forever yours,_

_Michael_

 

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed, leave some feedback!
> 
>  come find me on [tumblr](http://antisocialhood.tumblr.com)


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